or£ums  inml/d  lags? 


gCFtlBHER. ARMSTRONG  *  CO. 


LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Class 


Sau0-0ouci 


MEN     AND     MANNERS 

IN 

AMERICA 
ONE    HUNDRED  YEARS  AGO 

EDITED    BY 

H.  E.  SCUDDER 


NEW  YORK 

SCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG,  AND   COMPANY 
1876 


9* 


COPYRIGHT. 

SCRIBNER,    ARMSTRONG,    &   CO. 
1876. 


Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Rand,  A  very,  &>  Co.,  Boston. 


CONTENTS. 


NE  W  ENGLAND.  PAGE 

THE  SIEGE  OF  BOSTON 19 

A  BIT  OF  YANKEE  HUMOR 21 

Two  TORY  LADIES 22 

THE  FANEUIL  HALL  THEATRE    .        .        .        .        .  23 

THE  EVACUATION  OF  THE  TOWN 26 

THE  SOLDIERS  IN  CAMBRIDGE  CAMP  .        .        .  29 

SHARPSHOOTING 30 

THE  GREENNESS  OF  SOLDIERS 32 

THE  OFFICERS  AND  THEIR  SOCIETY        ....  34 

THE  BARONNESS  RIEDESEL  AT  CAMBRIDGE        .        .  36 

A  GERMAN  PORTRAIT  OF  NEW-ENGLANDERS  ...  41 

NEW-ENGLANDERS  SEEN  BY  A  BRITISH  OFFICER       .  41 

SOCIAL  RANK  IN  COLLEGE 45 

COMMONS 47 

AN  OLD-TIME  COLLEGE  PRESIDENT         ....  49 

Gov.  TRUMBULL '  51 

COL.  JOHN  TRUMBULL 52 

EARLY  SCHOOL-DAYS 53 

PREPARATION  FOR  COLLEGE 54 

JOHN  SINGLETON  COPLEY 56 

COLLEGE  LIFE 57 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  WAR 58 

THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  TROOPS 60 

TRUMBULL'S  PLAN  OF  THE  ENEMY'S  WORKS     .        .  61 

RETURN  TO  ART       .        .        .        .       *'      .        .        .  62 

BENJAMIN  WEST   .        .        .        .       .       *''»'•»-•'  63 
ARREST  AS  AN  OFFSET  TO  ANDRE  ...       .       .65 

3 


219052 


4  CONTENTS. 

«  PAGB 

RELEASED  THROUGH  WEST'S  INFLUENCE    ...  70 

CONNECTICUT  AND  ATHENS 72 

A  LOST  OPPORTUNITY 74 

SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS  AND  BENJAMIN  WEST       .        .  75 

PICTURES  OF  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.        .        .  77 

A  BANKER  FOR  THE  ARTIST 78 

MRS.  WRIGHT 80 

MRS.  WRIGHT  AND  FRANKLIN'S  HEAD  ....  83 

AN  EVENING  WITH  FRANKLIN 86 

AN  AMERICAN'S  MOMENT  OF  TRIUMPH  ....  88 

NEW-ENGLAND  SEACOAST  LIFE 92 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  WHALE-FISHERY     ...  92 

THE  MODE  OF  WHALE-FISHING  .        .        .        .        .  94 

PECULIAR  CUSTOMS  AT  NANTUCKET        .        .-.;•.  97 

NANTUCKET  WOMEN     .        .      :•  .     •       .   ,    *       ••  100 

NEW  SETTLEMENTS •;....        .  103 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  NEW-ENGLAND  COLONIES  105 

A  NEW-ENGLAND  BOYHOOD     .        .                ,        .        .  107 

FIRST  SCHOOLING.        .        .        .   ».'.;••;.    ;.        •        .  no 

A  NEW-ENGLAND  DISTRICT  SCHOOL       .        .        .        .  111 

A  BOY'S  BOOKS  IN  THE  LAST  CENTURY     .        .        .  114 

A  PRINTER'S  APPRENTICE         .        .    ;_..-.  A  ,-             .        .  115 

THE  PRINTING  BUSINESS  IN  BOSTON  .        .        .        .  118 

NEW  YORK  AND  THE  JERSEYS. 

THE  TOWN  OF  ALBANY 122 

THE  NEIGHBORHOOD -       .  124 

EDUCATION  AND  EARLY  HABITS  OF  THE  ALBANIANS    .  125 

AMUSEMENTS ::->:.•  127 

RURAL  EXCURSIONS 129 

WINTER  AMUSEMENTS  .        ..       ,    ,   •»  • ;    .:•:.;  -.-*:.'  132 

P'ASHIONABLE  PIG-STEALING     .        .     ..;    ••:      •        •  133 

LAY- BROTHERS .4       .»  136 

MISS    SCHUYLER,   THE    "AMERICAN    LADY"       .  .  .138 

MARRIAGE  OF  Miss  SCHUYLER     .       >       •  -     .     -  •:  140 

PHILIP  SCHUYLER      .'      .        .•      *.      ,"      , •.-«. ,•  .        .  142 

NEW  YORK    .        .        .        .        »....•«.«'•  144 

THE  HOUSE  AND  RURAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  FLATS       .  146 

COL.  SCHUYLER'S  BARN        .        .        »   v  *  it    •        •  !49 

OCCUPATIONS  OF  THE  DAY      ,     \*;.-.^-.     .        •        •  ISI 


CONTENTS.  5 

PAGE 

THE  SERVANTS  OF  THE  HOUSE    .      ..j:  :  «   ....  ;.  154 

THE  RESOURCES  OF  THE  SCHUYLERS      .        .       .        .  157 

A  UNIVERSAL  AUNT 159 

SIR  WILLIAM  JOHNSON 161 

BURNING  OF  THE  HOUSE  AT  THE  FLATS    ...  164 

MRS.  GRANT'S  EARLY  LIFE 167 

INTRODUCTION  TO  MILTON 169 

MILTON  INTRODUCES  HER  TO  AUNT  SCHUYLER     .        .  170 

MADAME  RIEDESEL  AND  GEN.  SCHUYLER  ...  172 

THE  TEMPER  OF  THE  COLONISTS 176 

AN  ENGLISH  GIRL  AND  GEN.  PUTNAM       ...  181 

THE  GREAT  TORPEDO 185 

JOE  BETTYS 190 

A  DAY  WITH  WASHINGTON 193 

THE  CUSTOM  OF  TOASTING 197 

A  PORTRAIT  OF  WASHINGTON 198 

PRINCETON  AND  DR.  WITHERSPOON    ....  200 

PENNSYL  VANIA. 

A  PHILADELPHIA  SCHOOLMASTER 202 

MR.  JOHN  BEVERIDGE 205 

THE  PAXTON  BOYS 208 

OGLE  AND  FRIEND 211 

SWIMMING  AND  SKATING 214 

THE  SLATE- ROOF  HOUSE 217 

THE  GUESTS  OF  THE  SLATE- ROOF  HOUSE      .        .        .219 

LADY  MOORE  AND  LADY  O'BRIEN       .        .        .        .  221 

SIR  WILLIAM  DRAPER 223 

MAJOR  ETHERINGTON 226 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  KEGS 228 

HABITS  OF  SOCIETY  IN  PHILADELPHIA       .        .        .  230 
AFFECTATION  OF  FRENCH  MANNERS       .        .        .        .232 

GENTLEMEN'S  DRESS 233 

LADIES'  DRESS 236 

WATCHES 238 

THE  FURNITURE  OF  A  HOUSE 238 

TEA  AND  CHOCOLATE 241 

AN  OLD-FASHIONED  APPRENTICE 241 

A  SUPERSTITIOUS  TAILOR 242 

WASHINGTON  IN  PHILADELPHIA 244 


6  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

THE  CHEVALIER  DU  B c        .       ..      «•       .  .    .  248 

THE  EPHRATAH  INSTITUTION  .        .       .        .        .        .  254 

THE  ENTRY  OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY  INTO  PHILADELPHIA  256 

THE  MESCHIANZA  AT  PHILADELPHIA      ....  259 

PRIVATIONS 265 

VALLEY  FORGE  .        .       .  .    ... 268 

OLD  DOCTORS        .       ...        .        .        .       .  269 

LYDIA  DARRAH 274 

ANECDOTES  OF  ROBERT  MORRIS 276 

LITERARY  CARTRIDGES      .       v                        .        .        .  280 

BARON  STEUBEN 280 

THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

BOUGHT  FOR  A  SONG        .        .        .-<-..        .  284 

A  MARYLAND  COUNTRY  SEAT     .        .       .  •     »       fc  285 
AN  AMERICAN  CINCINNATUS    ...".-       .        .288 

PRIVATIONS  OF  OFFICERS      .        .*    ..v       .       .       •  289 

MANNING'S  PRESENCE  OF  MIND 291 

COL.  PETER  HORRY       ...       .     '  .       .       V  295 

DR.  SKINNER     .....       ^       ...  296 

LAFAYETTE  AND  HUGER       .        .       .       .        .      ...  300 

ANECDOTE  OF  JOSEPH  WIGFALL      .       ...        .  305 

DUEL  BETWEEN  DR.  HALEY  AND  DELANCY       .       .  307 

ANECDOTES  OF  JOHN  WALTERS  GIBBS    .       ,       .        .  308 

GEN.  THOMAS  POLK  OF  NORTH  CAROLINA       .       .  311 

PEELING  A  PRISONER        , 312 

VIOLENT  SURGERY •  .       .  313 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

I.  SIGNING  THE  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE,  from 

the  painting  by  Col.  John  Trumbull     .         .      Frontispiece. 

II.  A  PICTURESQUE  VIEW  OF  THE  STATE  OF  THE  NA 
TION     I22 

This  is  taken  from  "  The  Westminster  Magazine,"  Lon 
don,  for  February,  1778,  and  is  a  satire  aimed  at  the  in 
activity  of  the  British  forces  during  their  occupation  of 
Philadelphia,  the  winter  of  1777-78.  The  following  is  the 
explanation  printed  in  the  magazine. 

I.  The  commerce  of  Great  Britain,  represented  in  the 
figure  of  a  milch  cow. 

II.  The  American  Congress  sawing  off  her  horns,  which 
are  her  natural  strength  and  defence  ;  the  one  being  already 
gone,  the  other  just  agoing. 

III.  The  jolly  plump  Dutchman  milking  the  poor  tame 
cow  with  great  glee. 

IV.,  V.  The  Frenchman  and  Spaniard,  each  catching  at 
their  respective  shares  of  the  produce,  and  running  away 
with  bowls  brimming  full,  laughing  to  one  another  at  their 
success. 

VI.  The  good  ship  "  Eagle  "  laid  up,  and  moved  at  some 
distance  from  Philadelphia,  without  sails  or  guns,  and 
showing  nothing  but  naked  port-holes  :  all  the  rest  of  the 
fleet  invisible,  nobody  knows  where. 

7 


8  LIST  OF  ILL  US  TRA  TIONS. 

PAGE 

VII.  The  two  brothers  napping  it,  one  against  the  other, 
in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  out  of  sight  of  fleet  and  army. 

VIII.  The  British  Lion  lying  on  the  ground,  fast  asleep, 
so  that  a  pug  dog  tramples  upon  him  as  on  a  lifeless  log. 
He  seems  to  see  nothing,  hear  nothing,  and  feel  nothing. 

IX.  A  free  Englishman  in  mourning,  standing  by  him, 
wringing  his  hands,  casting  up  his  eyes  in  despondency 
and  despair,  but  unable  to  rouse  the  Lion  to  correct  alf 
these  invaders  of  his  royal  prerogative,  and  his  subjects' 
property. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  add  any  commentary  upon  the  above, 
the  whole  being  too  fully  verified  and  demonstrated  by 
daily  authentic  intelligence  from  all  quarters;  and  by  the 
speeches,  arguments,  and  solemn  declarations  delivered  in 
the  great  assemblies,  which  are  inserted  in  this  magazine, 
and  will  be  continued  in  our  next  publication.  If  any  thing 
,.  could  yet  be  wanting  to  give  the  most  perfect  confirmation 
of  the  design  of  the  picture,  the  minister's  recent  motion 
and  introductory  speech,  and  the  measures  now  pursuing  in 
consequence  thereof,  are  irrefragable  proof,  from  which 
there  can  be  no  appeal. 

III.  THE  SLATE-ROOF  HOUSE.        .        ...        .217 

IV.  THE  MESCHIANZA  AT  PHILADELPHIA      .      ,.  .     .  259 


PREFACE. 


IT  is  not  impossible  that  the  interest  which  we 
take  in  the  trivialities  of  our  ancestors'  lives  is 
due  somewhat  to  the  indifference  which  our 
ancestors  themselves  showed  toward  preserving  what  now 
we  so  eagerly  search  after.  Had  the  men  and  women  of  a 
hundred  years  ago,  whom  we  now  scrutinize  so  diligently, 
been  more  self-conscious,  it  is  possible  that  they  would 
not  have  lived  with  quite  the  same  freedom  to  do  great 
deeds,  or  to  suffer  patiently.  In  saying  this,  we  seem  half 
to  reflect  upon  our  own  generation,  which  can  scarcely 
be  obscure,  one  would  say,  to  the  descendants  who  cele 
brate  its  deeds  a  hundred  years  hence.  The  novels  of 
society,  the  familiar  reports  of  every-day  doings,  the 
records  in  the  illustrated  papers,  the  magpie-like  garner- 
ings  of  libraries  and  historical  societies,  will  surely  em 
barrass  the  chiffonier  who  scratches  in  the  dust-heap  in 
the  next  century,  by  the  very  abundance  of  material. 

Yet,  after  all,  then,  as  now,  it  will  be  rather  the  uncon 
scious  expressions  of  men  and  women,  which  will  sparkle, 
and  attract  the  eye  ;  and  we  may  even  hope  that  the 
brass  and  brilliance  which  now  confuse  contemporaneous 
judgment  will  have  so  receded  from  hearing  and  sight, 

9 


IO  PREFACE. 

that  a  clear  field  will  be  found  for  the  display  of  private 
and  civic  virtue,  existing  now  in  the  knowledge  of  right- 
minded  men,  and  finding  record  in  one  form  or  another, 
though  not  the  most  conspicuous  form. 

In  searching  thus  for  such  sketches  of  life  a  hun 
dred  years  ago  as  shall  give  us  a  glimpse  of  those  who 
belonged  to  the  heroic  years  of  the  Republic,  we  are 
constantly  reminded,  that  they  are  to  be  found  in  half- 
forgotten  annals  or  unpretentious  books.  In  some  cases, 
it  is  true,  the  affectionate  regard  of  a  generation  imme 
diately  succeeding  has  preserved  for  us  records,  which, 
from  the  first,  had  a  preciousness.  Again,  the  survivors 
of  the  period,  whose  lives  had  issued  in  a  sunnier  time, 
found  a  wise  delight  in  the  reminiscences  which  a  young 
er  generation  received  with  eagerness.  It  must  be  con 
fessed,  however,  that  our  forefathers  rarely  had  that  gift 
of  anecdote  which  comes  partly  by  nature,  but  more  by 
constant  practice  under  favoring  conditions.  "  English 
stories,  bon-mots,  and  the  recorded  table-talk  of  their 
wits,"  says  Emerson  in  "  English  Traits,"  "  are  as  good 
as  the  best  of  the  French.  In  America  we  are  apt  schol 
ars,  but  have  not  yet  attained  the  same  perfection ;  for 
the  range  of  nations  from  which  London  draws,  and  the 
steep  contrasts  of  condition,  create  the  picturesque  in 
society,  as  broken  country  makes  picturesque  landscape ; 
whilst  our  prevailing  equality  makes  a  prairie  tameness. 
And,  secondly,  because  the  usage  of  a  dress  dinner  every 
day  at  dark  has  a  tendency  to  hive  and  produce  to  ad 
vantage  every  thing  good.  Much  attrition  has  worn 
every  sentence  into  a  bullet." 

The  plan  of  this  volume  is  as  simple  as  could  be  de 
vised.  I  have  taken  the  period  which  we  call  a  hundred 
years  ago,  keeping  within  the  general  limits  of  the  gen- 


PREFACE.  II 

eration  which  was  at  maturity  during  the  War  for  Inde 
pendence  ;  and,  rambling  over  the  thirteen  colonies,  have 
gone  to  this  book  and  that  for  such  familiar,  and  often 
times  quite  unliterary,  accounts  of  contemporaneous  life, 
as  seemed  likely  to  furnish  one  with  a  light  and  intelli 
gible  view  of  society  and  persons  at  that  time.  The 
heroic  and  the  homely  lie  side  by  side  in  this  volume,  as 
they  were  in  juxtaposition  in  life.  There  is  nothing  ex 
haustive  about  the  book.  I  have  dipped  here  and  there 
into  letters,  journals,  and  volumes  of  reminiscences,  only 
seeking,  as  far  as  possible,  to  allow  the  life  of  the  times 
to  be  depicted  by  the  persons  who  lived  then  ;  so  that  all 
should  be  at  first-hand.  Whatever  worth  there  may  be  in 
the  reports  of  travellers  then  is  enhanced  by  the  air  with 
which  they  tell  their  stories ;  and  I  should  be  sorry  to 
break  in  upon  some  of  the  delicious  passages,  for  exam 
ple,  in  Mrs.  Grant's  "  American  Lady,"  by  any  comments 
of  my  own,  pertinent  or  impertinent.  The  reader  is  not 
likely  to  witness  the  good  lady's  mystification  over  the 
delights  of  "  coasting,"  or  "  sliding  down  hill,"  and  miss 
the  pleasure  of  smiling  politely  behind  his  hand ;  nor 
will  the  same  intelligent  reader  fail  to  represent  to  him 
self  the  piquant  Baroness  Riedesel,  who  always  seems 
to  say  every  thing  with  an  accent. 

For  convenience,  the  various  sketches  have  been 
grouped  under  the  heads  of  the  several  sections  of  the 
country.  In  New  England,  the  relative  importance  of 
Boston  and  Cambridge  was  greater  then  than  now ;  and 
scenes  and  incidents  connected  with  the  two  places  take 
the  precedence.  Boston  narrowly  escaped  destruction 
from  the  hands  both  of  its  friends  and  of  its  enemies. 
What  would  have  happened,  had  it  been  destroyed,  in 
stead  of  besieged,  it  is  hard  to  say ;  but  there  is  reason  to 


12  PREFACE. 

believe  that  the  site  of  the  Old  South  would  have  been 
marked  by  a  monument,  and  the  good  people  would 
never  have  ceased  to  regret  the  historic  church.  The 
Province  House  would  have  lived  in  the  memory ;  the 
Old  State  House  would  have  been  mourned  over  in  a 
hopeless  way ;  and  the  spot  where  Faneuil  Hall  stood 
would  have  been  railed  about  as  too  sacred  to  be  trod 
upon.  But  now,  since  the  city  escaped  all  that,  we  can 
only  regret  the  loss  of  Winthrop's  house,  and  make  up 
for  a  tardy  destruction  by  casting  an  evil  eye  on  each  of 
the  public  buildings  in  town.  If  we  can  once  get  rid 
of  the  Old  South  and  Faneuil  Hall,  and  the  Old  State 
House,  we  can  have  the  satisfaction  of  perpetuating  our 
regret  by  marble  tablets  on  the  several  spots. 

The  siege  of  Boston  was  a  tragedy  without  a  fifth  act ; 
and  the  story  of  the  life  led  within  the  town  is  told  best 
by  the  letters  of  that  hopeful  merchant,  John  Andrews, 
preserved  for  us  in  the  Proceedings  of  the  Massachu 
setts  Historical  Society.  From  current  journals,  as  ex 
cerpted  from  by  Mr.  Frank  Moore  in  his  *'  Diary  of  the 
American  Revolution,"  one  may  catch  a  notion  of  how 
the  history  that  was  making  appealed  to  the  makers  of 
it,  although  the  journals  of  the  day  are  meagre  enough. 
I  have  taken  passages  here  and  there  from  these  two 
volumes.  The  Baron  and  Baroness  Riedesel  also,  whom 
the  fortune  of  war  enabled  to  see  something  of  New 
England  and  the  Middle  States,  left  some  record  in  their 
Journals ;  and  these,  translated  and  edited  by  W.  L. 
Stone,  have  furnished  some  very  naive  reports.  From 
The  Harvard  Book,  a  repertory  of  college  traditions,  I 
have  taken  a  page  or  two  descriptive  of  peculiarities  of 
college  life,  which  always  retains  much  the  same  flavor  ; 
since,  whatever  changes  take  place  among  grown  people, 


PREFACE.  13 

youth  has  its  own  mysterious,  unchanging  laws.  Sidney 
Willard's  "  Memories  of  Youth  and  Manhood  "  has  fur 
nished  some  hints  of  the  rulers  of  the  college. 

The  most  personal  narrative  in  this  portion  is  derived 
from  the  fresh  and  entertaining  pages  of  John  Trum- 
bull  in  his  "Autobiography  :  Reminiscences  and  Letters 
from  1756  to  1841."  It  is  from  the  early  part  only  of 
this  volume  that  I  have  drawn,  as  we  have  to  do  only 
with  the  period  embraced  in  Trumbull's  early  life,  and 
adventures  in  Europe.  The  artist  in  him  was  very  strong ; 
and  the  sketches  given  in  the  volume  indicate,  more  than 
do  his  finished  pictures,  a  capacity  for  character-drawing 
which  seems  never  to  have  had  a  fair  chance,  so  early 
was  he  brought  under  the  influence  of  the  stilted  histori 
cal  school  of  the  period.  The  insight  which  he  gives 
into  the  higher  life  of  his  country  —  that  which  concerns 
itself  with  pictures  and  books  —  is  valuable  for  its  un 
conscious  disclosure  of  the  misfortunes  of  an  artistic 
temperament  doomed  to  a  Connecticut  existence. 

Another  volume  has  been  drawn  from  to  depict  the 
salt  life  of  New  England.  Hector  St.  John  Crevecceur 
was  of  French  birth  and  English  education  :  he  signs 
himself  St.  John  de  Crevecceur  in  the  letters  to  Gov. 
Bowdoin,  which  are  published  in  the  Mass.  Hist.  Soc. 
Proceedings  for  February,  1874.  He  came  to  this  coun 
try  in  1754,  and  settled  on  a  farm  in  Orange  County, 
New  York.  His  home  was  broken  up  by  the  disturbances 
of  the  Revolution;  and  he  returned  to  France  in  1780, 
visiting  this  country  again  in  1783.  In  the  interval 
was  published  in  London  his  "  Letters  from  an  Ameri 
can  Farmer,  describing  certain  provincial  situations, 
manners,  and  customs  not  generally  known,  and  con 
veying  some  idea  of  the  late  and  present  interior  cir- 


14  PREFACE. 

cumstances  of  the  British  colonies  in  North  America : 
written  for  the  information  of  a  friend  in  England." 
The  book,  in  its  manner  and  tone,  is  influenced  by  the 
falsetto  sentiment  which  found  its  most  notable  illustra 
tion  in  "  Paul  and  Virginia."  But,  in  spite  of  one's  impa 
tience  at  this,  one  is  induced  to  read  it  for  the  fresh  and 
vivid  descriptions  which  it  gives  of  certain  phases  of  life 
here,  and  is  struck  by  the  prominence  which  the  author 
gives  to  what  has  now  receded  into  insignificance.  Then 
Nantucket  and  Martha's  Vineyard  filled  a  larger  place  in 
his  mind  than  Charleston,  and  seemed  especially  worth 
his  mention.  I  have  selected  portions  of  his  narrative, 
but  have  been  obliged  to  omit  some  chapters  which  do 
not  fall  behind  in  interest.  The  book  has  claims  for  a 
renewed  life. 

Another  book  by  a  Frenchman  —  a  traveller,  however, 
and  not  a  resident  —  has  yielded  a  few  pages.  The  Mar 
quis  de  Chastellux  was  one  of  Count  Rochambeau's  offi 
cers,  and  from  his  rank  found  easy  admission  to  the  best 
society  which  America  afforded.  But  it  is  fair  to  infer 
from  his  "  Travels,"  that  his  own  manner  and  freshness 
of  nature  commended  him  to  the  favor  of  Washington, 
and  all  with  whom  he  associated.  His  book  is  certainly 
one  of  the  most  agreeable  records  of  travel  which  we 
have  for  the  period  which  it  covers. 

Lieut.  Anburey,  an  officer  who  served  in  Burgoyne's 
expedition,  published,  in  two  volumes,  "  Travels  through 
the  Interior  Parts  of  America,  in  a  Series  of  Letters." 
The  form  of  his  narrative  enabled  him  to  write  cursorily ; 
and  he  makes  no  pretence  of  giving  a  full  narrative ;  but 
his  observations  are  those  of  a  gentleman,  vexed,  indeed, 
sometimes,  by  his  unpleasant  position  as  a  prisoner  of 
war,  but  by  no  means  ill  tempered.  Like  other  travellers 


PREFACE.  15 

of  the  time,  he  was  more  observant  of  Nature  than  of 
human  nature  ;  but  he  has  given  occasional  sketches  of 
the  people,  which  are  not  without  interest. 

There  are  two  writers  whose  reminiscences  have  been 
drawn  from  slightly  in  the  early  part  of  the  volume  ;  both 
New-Englanders,  but  belonging  in  two  quite  distinct 
circles.  Elkanah  Watson  was  a  well-to-do  merchant, 
whose  portrait  was  painted  by  Copley,  in  itself  a  guar 
anty  of  respectability.  He  saw  a  little  of  volunteer- 
service,  but  during  much  of  the  Revolution  was  in  Europe, 
engaged  in  mercantile  transactions.  On  his  return,  he 
interested  himself  in  many  matters  of  public  concern,  but 
never  was  properly  a  public  man.  The  titlepage  of  the 
book  containing  his  reminiscences  reads,  "Men  and 
Times  of  the  Revolution ;  or,  Memoirs  of  Elkanah  Wat 
son,  including  his  Journals  of  Travels  in  Europe  and 
America  from  the  year  1777  to  1842,  and  his  correspond 
ence  with  public  men,  and  reminiscences  and  incidents 
of  the  American  Revolution.  Edited  by  his  son,  Wins- 
low  C.  Watson."  From  this  book  I  have  taken  some 
amusing  sketches,  in  which  Franklin  figures,  and  the 
graphic  picture  of  scenes  in  the  House  of  Lords  upon 
occasion  of  the  king's  speech  announcing  his  recogni 
tion  of  American  independence.  This  book  and  Trum- 
bull's  Autobiography  illustrate  the  reflection  of  American 
life  in  Europe. 

Joseph  Tinker  Buckingham  was  also  a  New-England 
boy ;  but  he  represents  rather  the  class  which  is  either 
literary,  or  allied  to  literature.  The  greater  part  of  his 
"  Personal  Memoirs,  and  Recollections  of  Editorial  Life," 
deals  with  a  later  period ;  but  the  opening  chapters,  from 
which  I  have  drawn,  give  a  pathetic  picture  of  a  New- 
England  boy's  life  and  struggles  in  the  direction  taken 
by  so  many  since. 


1 6  PREFACE. 

Leaving  New  England,  the  fullest  description  of  do 
mestic  and  social  life  in  New  York  is  unquestionably 
to  be  found  in  "  Memoirs  of  an  American  Lady,  with 
Sketches  of  Manners  and  Scenery  in  America,  as  they 
existed  previous  to  the  Revolution."  By  Mrs.  Anne  Grant, 
commonly  called  Mrs.  Grant  of  Laggan.  The  author,  a 
daughter  of  Duncan  McVickar,  —  a  Scottish  officer  of 
the  British  army,  —  was  with  her  father  when  he  was  on 
duty  in  Albany  and  the  neighborhood,  in  1757.  She  was 
a  mere  child  then  ;  but  fortune  threw  her  into  the  com 
panionship  of  Madam  Schuyler,  widow  of  Col.  Philip 
Schuyler ;  and  from  her  she  learned  much  of  the  private 
history  of  a  generous  family.  She  returned  to  Scotland, 
and  married  the  Rev.  James  Grant  of  Laggan,  Invernes- 
shire,  who  left  her  a  widow  in  1801.  She  was  ambitious 
of  literary  distinction,  but  will  be  remembered  by  this 
book,  which,  after  all,  owes  its  charm  to  its  subject,  rather 
than  to  any  peculiar  grace  in  Mrs.  Grant's  style  ;  though 
at  times  she  has  the  true  air  of  a  charming  old  lady 
telling  of  her  girlhood. 

For  the  sketches  of  Philadelphia  and  of  Pennsylvania 
life  in  general,  we  turn,  perforce,  to  "  Watson's  Annals,"  — 
a  book  which  could  only  spring  from  a  genuine  love  of 
antiquities,  and  of  the  city  which  it  honors.  Philadel 
phia  and  Boston  are  fortunate  in  having  had  their  local 
antiquaries ;  but,  for  fulness  of  detail  and  delightful  inco 
herence,  Watson  bears  off  the  palm.  The  leisurely  title- 
page  of  his  work  prepares  one  for  the  steady  flow  of 
anecdote  and  localization  which  follows  :  "  Annals  of 
Philadelphia  and  Pennsylvania,  in  the  olden  time  j  being 
a  collection  of  memoirs,  anecdotes  and  incidents  of  the 
city  and  its  inhabitants,  and  of  the  earliest  settlements 
of  the  inland  part  of  Pennsylvania,  from  the  Days  of  the 


PREFACE.  I/ 

Founders.  Intended  to  preserve  the  recollections  of 
olden  time,  and  to  exhibit  society  in  its  changes  of  man 
ners  and  customs,  and  the  city  and  country  in  their  local 
changes  and  improvements.  By  John  F.  Watson,  mem 
ber  of  the  Historical  Societies  of  Pennsylvania,  New 
York  and  Massachusetts."  With  this  is  to  be  named 
another  source  of  my  material,  —  the  racy  "  Memoirs  of 
his  own  Time ;  with  Reminiscences  of  the  Men  and 
Events  of  the  Revolution,  by  Alexander  Graydon,  Esq., 
edited  by  John  Stockton  Littell." 

For  the  Southern  Colonies,  I  have  relied  upon  Garden's 
"  Anecdotes  of  the  American  Revolution,"  and  "  Tra 
ditions  and  Reminiscences  chiefly  of  the  American 
Revolution  in  the  South  ;  including  biographical  sketches, 
incidents  and  anecdotes,  few  of  which  have  been 
published,  particularly  of  residents  in  the  upper  country. 
By  Joseph  Johnson,  M.D.,  of  Charleston,  S.C." 

The  material  was  more  abundant  for  the  Northern 
Colonies,  since  the  life  led  there  was  grouped  more 
decidedly  about  cities ;  and  cities  make  society  and  anec 
dotes.  De  Quincey,  in  his  paper  "  On  War,"  says,  "  All 
anecdotes,  I  fear,  are  false.  I  am  sorry  to  say  so  ;  but 
my  duty  to  the  reader  extorts  from  me  the  disagree 
able  confession,  as  upon  a  matter  specially  investigated 
by  myself,  that  all  dealers  in  anecdotes  are  tainted  with 
mendacity.  'Where  is  the  Scotchman,'  said  Dr.  Johnson, 
'  who  does  not  prefer  Scotland  to  truth  ? '  But,  however 
this  may  be,  rarer  than  such  a  Scotchman,  rarer  than  the 
phcenix,  is  that  virtuous  man  :  a  monster  he  is,  nay,  he 
is  an  impossible  man,  who  will  consent  to  lose  a  pros 
perous  anecdote  on  the  consideration  that  it  happens  to 
be  a  lie.  All  history,  therefore,  —  being  built  partly,  and 
some  of  it  altogether,  upon  anecdotage,  —  must  be  a  tissue 


1 8  PREFACE. 

of  lies.  .  .  .  Are  these  works,  then,  to  be  held  cheap, 
because  their  truths  to  their  falshoods  are  in  the  ratio  of 
one  to  five  hundred  ?  On  the  contrary,  they  are  better, 
and  more  to  be  esteemed  on  that  account ;  because  now 
they  are  admirable  reading  on  a  winter's  night,  whereas, 
written  on  the  principle  of  sticking  to  the  truth,  they 
would  have  been  as  dull  as  ditch-water.  Generally, 
therefore,  the  dealers  in  anecdotage  are  to  be  viewed  with 
admiration,  as  patriotic  citizens,  willing  to  sacrifice  their 
own  characters,  lest  their  countrymen  should  find  them 
selves  short  of  amusement."  Having  thus  disarmed  the 
critic,  by  admitting  beforehand  all  that  he  could  object, 
I  invite  the  gentler  reader  to  put  himself  under  the  lead 
of  the  "  patriotic  citizens." 

To  the  various  authors  of  the  books  used,  and  to  their 
several  editors,  I  return  my  thanks  for  the  pleasure  I 
have  found  in  following  their  narratives.  I  beg  the 
reader  to  believe  that  I  have  not  stripped  the  trees  of 
all  their  fruit.  My  work  has  been  to  arrange  this  ma 
terial,  and  I  have  distinguished  my  own  phrases  by 
enclosing  them  in  brackets  [  ].  The  footnotes  have 
been  credited  to  the  authors,  where  any  obscurity  was 
likely  to  occur. 

H.  E.  S. 


NEW    ENGLAND. 


THE  SIEGE  OF  BOSTON. 

'HERE  are  a  good  many  diaries  and  letters  which 
throw  light  upon  the  early  movements  of  the  patriots 
about  Boston  ;  and  the  prominence  of  Lexington, 
Concord,  and  Bunker  Hill,  have  served  to  bring  out 
much  historical  material  relating  to  the  first  engagements 
between  the  British  and  colonial  forces.  The  events  of  the 
siege  of  Boston  were  not  of  a  character  to  receive  so  much 
illustration  from  contemporaneous  writers  ;  but  it  chanced  that 
there  remained  in  the  town  during  the  siege  a  lively  merchant, 
named  John  Andrews,  who  had  been  carrying  on  a  corre 
spondence  with  his  brother-in-law,  William  Barrell  of  Phila 
delphia  ;  and,  although  the  correspondence  during  the  actual 
siege  was  interrupted,  the  letters,  which  were  in  a  half  journal 
form,  that  preceded  and  followed  the  siege,  furnish  the  best 
knowledge  that  we  have  of  the  interior  life  of  Boston  at  this 
time.] 

Near  half  the  inhabitants  [he  writes  May  6,  1775]  have 
left  the  town  already  ;  and  another  quarter,  at  least,  have  been 
waiting  for  a  week  past  with  earnest  expectation  of  getting 
papers,  which  have  been  dealt  out  very  sparingly  of  late,  not 
above  two  or  three  procured  of  a  day,  and  those  with  the 
greatest  difficulty.  It's  a  fortnight  yesterday  since  the  com 
munication  between  the  town  and  country  was  stopped.  Of 
consequence,  our  eyes  have  not  been  blessed  with  either  vege- 

19 


2O  NEW  ENGLAND. 

tables  or  fresh  provision.  How  long  we  shall  continue  in  this 
wretched  state,  God  only  knows  ;  but  that  no  more  blood  may 
be  shed  is  the  earnest  wish  and  prayer  of  your  affectionate 
friend.  .  .  .  You  can  have  no  conception,  Bill,  of  the  dis 
tresses  the  people  in  general  are  involved  in.  You'll  see 
parents  that  are  lucky  enough  to  procure  papers,  with  bundles 
in  one  hand  and  a  string  of  children  in  the  other,  wandering 
out  of  the  town  (with  only  a  sufferance  of  one  day's  permis 
sion),  not  knowing  whither  they'll  go.  Such,  Bill,  are  but 
faint  emblems  of  the  distresses  that  seem  to  threaten  us, 
which  I  hope  the  Almighty  God,  in  his  infinite  wisdom,  will 
avert.  .  .  .  It's  hard  to  stay  cooped  up  here,  and  feed  upon 
salt  provisions,  more  especially  without  one's  wife,  Bill ;  but 
at  the  same  time  would  not  wish  to  have  her  here  under  the 
present  disagreeable  circumstances,  though  I  find  an  absolute 
necessity  to  be  here  myself,  as  the  soldiery  think  they  have  a 
license  to  plunder  every  one's  house  and  store  who  leaves  the 
town,  of  which  they  have  given  convincing  proof  already  ;  and 
the  wanton  destruction  of  property  at  the  late  fire  makes  the 
duty,  in  my  mind,  more  incumbent  on  me. 

We  have  now  and  then  a  carcass  offered  for  sale  in  the 
market,  which  formerly  we  would  not  have  picked  up  in  the 
street ;  but,  bad  as  it  is,  it  readily  sells  for  eightpence  lawful 
money  per  pound  ;  and  a  quarter  of  lamb,  when  it  makes  its 
appearance,  which  is  rarely  once  a  week,  sells  for  a  dollar, 
weighing  only  three  br  three  and  a  half  pounds.  To  such 
shifts  has  the  necessity  of  the  times  drove  us.  Wood  not 
scarcely  to  be  got  at  twenty-two  shillings  a  cord.  Was  it  not 
for  a  trifle  of  salt  provisions  that  we  have,  'twould  be  impos 
sible  for  us  to  live.  Pork  and  beans  one  day,  and  beans  and 
pork  another,  and  fish  when  we  can  catch  it.  Am  necessitated 
to  submit  to  such  living,  or  risk  the  little  all  I  have,  in  the 
world,  which  consists  in  my  stock  of  goods  and  furniture  to 
the  amount  of  between  two  and  three  thousand  sterling,  as  it's 
said  without  scruple,  that  those  who  leave  the  town  forfeit 
all  the  effects  they  leave  behind.  Whether  they  hold  it  up  as 
only  a  means  to  detain  people  or  not,  I  can't  say ;  but,  in 


A   BIT  OF  YANKEE  HUMOR.  21 

regard  to  slaves,  their  actions  have  been  consistent  with  the 
doctrine,  however  absurd.  It  has  so  far  availed  as  to  influence 
many  to  stay  who  would  otherways  have  gone. 

A  BIT  OF  YANKEE  HUMOR. 

[Among  the  incidents  of  the  British  possession  of  the  town, 
Andrews  relates  two,  which  indicate  that  the  dry  humor  and 
dialect  of  the  Yankee  are  not  of  recent  discovery.]  It's  com 
mon  for  the  soldiers  to  fire  at  a  target  fixed  in  the  stream  at  the 
bottom  of  the  common.  A  countryman  stood  by  a  few  days 
ago,  and  laughed  very  heartily  at  a  whole  regiment's  firing, 
and  not  one  being  able  to  hit  it.  The  officer  observed  him, 
and  asked  why  he  laughed.  "  Perhaps  you'll  be  affronted  if  I 
tell  you,"  replied  the  countryman.  No,  he  would  not,  he  said. 
"  Why  then"  says  he,  "  I  laugh  to  see  how  awkward  they 
fire.  Why,  I'll  be  bound  I  hit  it  ten  times  running." —  "Ah  ! 
will  you  ?  "  replied  the  officer.  "  Come  try.  —  Soldiers,  go  and 
bring  five  of  the  best  guns,  and  load  'em  for  this  honest  man." 

—  "  Why,  you  need  not  bring  so  many  :  let  me  have  any  one 
that  comes  to  hand,"  replied  the  other.     "  But  I  chuse  to  load 
myself"     He  accordingly  loaded,  and  asked  the  officer  where 
he  should  fire .     He  replied,  "  To  the  right,"  when  he  pulled 
tricker,  and  drove  the  ball  as  near  the  right  as  possible.     The 
officer  was  amazed,  and  said  he  could  not  do  it  again,  as  that 
was  only  by  chance.    He  loaded  again.    "  Where  shall  I  fire  ?  " 

—  "  To  the  left"  when  he  performed  as  well  as  before.    "  Come, 
once  more !  "  says  the  officer.     He  prepared  the  third  time. 
"Where  shall  I  fire  naow?"  —  "In  the  centre."     He  took 
aim,  and  the  ball  went  as  exact  in  the  middle  as  possible. 
The  officers  as  well  as  soldiers  stared,  and  thought  the  devil 
was  in  the  man.     "  Why,"  says  the  countryman,  "  I'll  tell  you 
naow.     I  have  got  a  boy  at  home  that  will  toss  up  an  apple, 
and  shoot  out  all  the  seeds  as  it's  coming  down."     One  more 
anecdote,  and  I'll  close  this  barren  day.     "  When  the  Fifty- 
ninth  Regiment  came  from  Salem,  and  were  drawn  up  on  each 
side  the  Neck,  a  remarkably  tall  countryman,  near  eight  feet 
high,  strutted  between  'em,  at  the  head  of  his  wagon,  looking 


22  NEW  ENGLAND. 

very  shy  and  contemptuously  on  one  side  and  t'other,  which 
attracted  the  notice  of  the  whole  regiment.  "  Ay,  ay,"  says 
he,  "  you  don't  know  what  boys  we  have  got  in  the  country. 
I  am  near  nine  feet  high,  and  one  of  the  smallest  among  'em," 
which  caused  much  merriment  to  the  spectators,  as  well  as 
surprise  to  the  soldiers.  Indeed,  Bill,  were  I  to  tell  you  of  all 
the  jokes  and  witticisms  of  the  country  people,  I  would  have 
little  else  to  do. 

Two  TORY  LADIES. 

[The  people  shut  up  in  Boston  were  mainly  poor  trades 
people  ;  but  there  were  also  many  Tory  families,  who  either 
lived  there,  or  had  come  in  for  safety  from  the  country  about. 
One  of  the  noted  Tories  in  town  was  the  sarcastic  and  witty 
Dr.  Mather  Byles,  whose  sayings  continued  to  be  quoted  long 
after  his  death.  Mr.  Sabine  in  his  "  Loyalists  "  gives  further 
accounts  of  his  two  daughters.] 

They  lived  and  died  in  the  old  family  house  at  the  corner 
of  Nassau  and  Tremont  Streets.  One  of  them  deceased  in 
1835,  the  other  in  1837.  They  were  stout,  unchanging  Loyal 
ists  to  the  last  hour  of  their  existence.  Their  thread  of  life 
was  spun  out  more  than  half  a  century  after  the  royal  govern 
ment  had  ceased  in  these  States ;  yet  they  retained  their  love 
of  and  strict  adherence  to  monarchs  and  monarchies,  and 
refused  to  acknowledge  that  the  Revolution  had  transferred 
their  allegiance  to  new  rulers.  They  were  repeatedly  offered 
a  great  price  for  their  dwelling,  but  would  not  sell  it ;  nor 
would  they  permit  improvements  or  alterations.  They  pos 
sessed  old-fashioned  silver-plate,  which  they  never  used,  and 
would  not  dispose  of.  They  worshipped  in  Trinity  Church 
(under  which  their  bodies  now  lie),  and  wore  on  Sunday 
dresses  almost  as  old  as  themselves.  Among  their  furniture 
was  a  pair  of  bellows  two  centuries  old,  a  table  on  which 
Franklin  drank  tea  on  his  last  visit  to  Boston,  a  chair  which, 
more  than  a  hundred  years  before,  the  Government  of  Eng 
land  had  sent  as  a  present  to  their  grandfather,  Lieut.-Gov. 
Tailer.  They  showed  to  visitors  commissions  to  their  grand- 


THE  FANEUIL  HALL    THEATRE.  2$ 

father  signed  by  Queen  Anne  and  three  of  the  Georges  ; 
and  the  envelope  of  a  letter  from  Pope  to  their  grandfather. 
They  had  moss  gathered  from  the  birthplace  of  the  unfortu 
nate  Lady  Jane  Grey.  They  talked  of  their  walks  arm  in 
arm,  on  Boston  Common,  with  Gen.  Howe  and  Lord  Percy, 
while  the  British  army  occupied  Boston.  They  told  of  his 
lordship's  ordering  his  band  to  play  under  their  windows  for 
their  gratification. 

In  the  progress  of  the  improvements  in  Boston,  a  part  of 
their  dwelling  was  removed.  This  had  a  fatal  influence  upon 
the  elder  sister.  "  That "  said  the  survivor,  —  "  that  is  one  of 
the  consequences  of  living  in  a  republic.  Had  we  been  living 
under  a  king,  he  would  have  cared  nothing  about  our  little 
property,  and  we  could  have  enjoyed  it  in  our  own  way  as 
long  as  we  lived.  But "  continued  she,  "  there  is  one  comfort, 
that  not  a  creature  in  the  States  will  be  any  better  for  what 
we  shall  leave  behind  us."  She  was  true  to  her  promise  ;  for 
the  Byles's  estate  passed  to  relatives  in  the  Colonies.  One 
of  these  ladies  of  a  bygone  age  wrote  to  William  the  Fourth 
on  his  accession  to  the  throne.  They  had  known  the  sailor- 
king  during  the  Revolution,  and  now  assured  him  that  the 
family  of  Dr.  Byles  always  had  been,  and  would  continue  to 
be,  loyal  to  their  rightful  sovereign  of  England. 

THE  FANEUIL  HALL  THEATRE. 

[The  mention  of  courtesies  bestowed  by  Gen.  Howe  and 
Lord  Percy  calls  to  mind  the  devices  of  British  officers  to 
relieve  the  tedium  of  the  siege. 

The  most  elaborate  effort  at  entertainment  was  in  the 
theatrical  representations  given  under  the  patronage  of  Gen. 
Howe.  A  number  of  officers  and  ladies  formed  a  Society  for 
Promoting  Theatrical  Amusements,  —  a  title  which  somehow 
seems  to  give  a  certain  solemnity  to  the  proceedings, — and 
did  this,  the  announcement  frankly  stated,  for  their  own 
amusement,  and  the  benevolent  purpose  of  contributing  to  the 
relief  of  distressed  soldiers,  their  widows  and  children.  Fan- 
euil  Hall  had  been  fitted  up  with  a  stage  ;  and  the  performances 


24  NEW  ENGLAND. 

began  at  six  o'clock.  The  entrance-fee  was  not  immoderate, — 
one  dollar  for  the  pit,  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  for  the  gallery  ;  and 
the  surplus  over  expenses  was  to  be  appropriated  to  the  relief 
of  the  poor  soldiers.  For  some  reason,  either  because  the 
play  was  immensely  popular,  or  from  some  difficulty  with  the 
currency,  the  managers  were  obliged  to  announce,  after  a  few 
evenings,  "  The  managers  will  have  the  house  strictly  sur 
veyed,  and  give  out  tickets  for  the  number  it  will  contain. 
The  most  positive  orders  are  given  out  not  to  take  money  at 
the  door ;  and  it  is  hoped  gentlemen  of  the  army  will  not 
use  their  influence  over  the  sergeants  who  are  doorkeepers, 
to  induce  them  to  disobey  that  order,  as  it  is  meant  entirely 
to  promote  the  ease  and  convenience  of  the  public  by  not 
crowding  the  theatre."  The  theatre  gave  some  business  to 
the  printer,  who  announces  that  he  has  ready  the  tragedy  of 
"  Tamerlane  "  as  it  is  to  be  acted  at  the  theatre  in  this  town. 
The  tragedy  of  "Zara  "  seems  to  have  been  the  favorite  ;  and 
the  comedy  of  the  u  Busybody,"  the  farces  of  the  "  Citizen  " 
and  the  "Apprentice,"  were  also  given.  The  most  notable 
piece,  however,  was  the  local  farce  of  the  "  Blockade  of 
Boston,"  by  Gen.  Burgoyne,  whose  reputation  as  a  wit  and 
dramatist  has  kept  quite  even  pace  with  his  military  fame. 
On  the  evening  of  the  8th  of  January,  it  was  to  be  given  for 
the  first  time.  The  comedy  of  the  "  Busybody "  had  been 
acted,  and  the  curtain  was  about  to  be  drawn  for  the  farce, 
when  the  actors  behind  the  scenes  heard  an  exaggerated  re 
port  of  a  raid  made  upon  Charlestown  by  a  small  party  of 
Americans.  One  of  the  actors,  dressed  for  his  part,  that  of  a 
Yankee  sergeant,  came  forward  upon  the  stage,  called  silence, 
and  informed  the  audience  that  the  alarm  guns  had  been  fired, 
and  a  battle  was  going  on  in  Charlestown.  The  audience, 
taking  this  for  the  first  scene  in  the  new  farce,  applauded 
obstreperously,  being  determined  to  get  all  the  fun  there  was 
to  be  had  out  of  the  piece,  when  the  order  was  suddenly  given 
in  dead  earnest  for  the  officers  to  return  to  their  posts.  The 
audience  at  this  was  thrown  into  dire  confusion,  the  officers 
jumping  over  the  orchestra,  breaking  the  fiddles  on  the  way, 


THE  FANEUIL  HALL    THEATRE.  2$ 

the  actors  rushing  about  to  get  rid  of  their  paint  and  disguises, 
the  ladies  alternately  fainting  and  screaming,  and  the  play 
brought  to  great  grief.  Whether  it  was  ever  given  or  not 
does  not  appear;  but  the  "News  Letter,"  in  reporting  the 
incident,  intimates  that  the  interruption  was  likely  to  last ; 
"As  soon  as  those  parts  in  the  'Boston  Blockade'  which  are 
vacant  by  some  gentlemen  being  ordered  to  Charlestown  can 
be  filled  up,  that  farce  will  be  performed  with  the  tragedy  of 
1  Tamerlane.' " 

It  does  not  appear  that  Burgoyne's  farce  was  ever  printed  ; 
but  it  met  easily  with  ridicule  ;  and  after  the  siege  a  literary 
revenge  was  taken  by  an  anonymous  writer  in  the  farce  of 
the  "  Blockheads  ;  or,  The  Affrighted  Officers,"  a  not  overnice 
production,  which  jeers  at  the  situation  of  officers  and  refu 
gees  when  forced  to  evacuate  the  town.  The  characters 
are,— 

Captain  Bashaw Ad  ....  1. 

Puff G 1. 

L. .  d  Dapper          .        .        .        .      L  .  .  d    P.  .  .  y.  \ 
Shallow G...t.       officers. 


Meagre          •  .        .         • 
Surly       .... 

.G.  . 

R. 
B 

•y-  ' 

.s. 

Refugees, 
and 

Bonny      .... 

M  .. 
E  .  . 

•  y- 

to 
Government. 

Jemima,  wife  to  Simple. 
Tabitha,  her  daughter. 
Dorsa,  her  maid. 
Soldiers,  women,  etc. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  supply  the  hiatus  in  the  names,  and 
read  Lord  Percy,  Gilbert,  Gray,  Ruggles,  Brattle,  Murray, 
Edson.  Lord  Percy  is  represented  as  a  libertine  ;  and  there 
is  some  attempt  at  characterizing  the  several  Loyalists.  Brat 
tle  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  good  liver  ;  and  Ruggles,  of 
being  a  rough-spoken  man.  Probably  the  hits  in  the  piece 
were  more  telling  to  those  closer  to  the  characters  in  time.  In 
the  prologue  are  the  lines,  — 


26  NEW  ENGLAND. 

"  By  Yankees  frighted  too !  oh,  dire  to  say! 
Why,  Yankees  sure  at  Red-coats  faint  away  I 
Oh,  yes !  they  thought  so  too,  for  lackaday, 
Their  general  turned  the  blockade  to  a  play. 
Poor  vain  poltroons,  with  justice  we'll  retort, 
And  call  them  blockheads  for  their  idle  sport."] 

THE  EVACUATION  OF  THE  TOWN. 

[When  the  evacuation  took  place,  the  Tories  were  obliged 
to  remove  with  the  army  ;  and  the  sudden  departure  produced 
great  confusion  and  lawlessness.1  John  Andrews,  who  was 
an  eye-witness,  and  a  very  interested  one  too,  relates  in  one 
of  his  letters  some  of  the  scenes.]  I  should  have  set  out  for 
Haverhill  the  day  after  the  troops  evacuated  the  town,  had 
not  the  small-pox  prevented  my  lad  from  coming  in,  which 
difficulty  still  continues.  By  the  earnest  persuasion  of  your 
uncle's  friends,  and  with  the  advice  of  the  selectmen,  I 
moved  into  his  house  at  the  time  the  troops,  &c.,  were  pre 
paring  for  embarkation,  under  every  difficulty  you  can  con 
ceive  at  such  a  time,  as  every  day  presented  us  with  new 
scenes  of  the  wantonness  and  destruction  made  by  the  sol 
diers.  I  had  the  care  of  six  houses  with  their  furniture,  and 
as  many  stores  filled  with  effects,  for  eleven  months  past ;  and, 
at  a  time  like  this,  I  underwent  more  fatigue  and  perplexity 
than  I  did  through  the  whole  siege  ;  for  I  was  obliged  to  take 
my  rounds  all  day,  without  any  cessation,  and  scarce  ever 
failed  of  finding  depredations  made  upon  some  one  or  other 
of  them,  that  I  was  finally  necessitated  to  procure  men,  at  the 
extravagant  rate  of  two  dollars  a  day,  to  sleep  in  the  several 
houses  and  stores  for  a  fortnight  before  the  military  plunderers 
went  off;  for  as  sure  as  they  were  left  alone  one  night,  so 
sure  they  were  plundered.  Poor  Ben,  in  addition  to  his  other 
misfortunes,  suffered  in  this  :  the  fellow  who  took  charge  of 
his  house  neglected  to  sleep  there  the  third  night,  being 

1  "  Nothing  can  be  more  diverting  than  to  see  the  town  in  its  present  situation. 
All  is  uproar  and  confusion  :  carts,  trucks,  wheelbarrows,  handbarrows,  coaches, 
chaises,  are  driving  as  if  the  very  devil  was  after  them." — THE  BLOCKHEADS,  act 
iii.  scene  3. 


THE  EVACUATION  OF  THE    TOWN.  2/ 

affrighted  :  the  consequence  was,  a  party  of  soldiers  got  in, 
went  into  his  cellar,  took  liquors  from  thence,  and  had  a  revel 
ling  frolic  in  his  parlor  ;  carried  off  and  destroyed  his  furni 
ture,  &c.,  to  the  value  of  two  hundred  sterling,  which  was  not 
to  be  named  with  what  fifty  other  houses  suffered,  or  I  may 
say  a  hundred. 

I  was  obliged  to  pay  at  the  rate  of  a  dollar  an  hour  for 
hands  to  assist  me  in  moving.  Such  was  the  demand  for  labor 
ers,  that  they  were  taken  from  me,  even  at  that,  by  the  Tories, 
who  bid  over  me,  for  the  sake  of  carrying  away  other  people1  s 
effects,,  wherever  they  could  come  at  them  ;  which  so  retarded 
my  moving,  that  I  was  obliged  to  leave  my  kitchen  furniture 
in  the  house  I  left :  consequently  it  was  broke  open  and  rum 
maged,  and  with  all  my  crockery  were  carried  off.  Wat  has 
stripped  your  uncle's  house  of  every  thing  he  could  conven 
iently  carry  off,  which  had  I  known  that  had  been  his  intention, 
I  would  by  no  means  have  consented  to  go  into  it ;  but,  as  I 
had  moved  most  of  my  heavy  things  while  he  was  preparing 
to  go,  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  get  off  when  I  discovered  it. 
Your  Uncle  Jerry  was  almost  frantic  about  it,  and  said  he 
should  write  his  brother,  and  acquaint  him  that  I  was  knowing 
to  it,  and  yet  permitted  him  to  do  it ;  little  thinking  that  it  was 
not  in  my  power  to  prevent  his  carrying  off  every  thing,  if  he 
was  disposed  to  do  it,  as  I  only  took  charge  of  the  house  as 
his  (Wat's)  substitute.  He  has  left  all  the  looking-glasses  and 
window-curtains,  with  some  tables,  and  most  of  the  chairs  ; 
only  two  bedsteads  and  one  bed,  without  any  bedding  or 
sheets,  or  even  a  rag  of  linen  of  any  kind.  Some  of  the  china, 
and  principal  part  of  the  pewter,  is  the  sum  of  what  he  has 
left,  save  the  library,  which  was  packed  up  corded  to  ship  ;  but 
your  Uncle  Jerry  and  Mr.  Austin  went  to  him,  and  absolutely 
forbid  it  on  his  peril.  He  treated  them  in  a  very  rough,  cava 
lier  way  ;  told  them  they  had  no  right  to  interfere  with  his 
business  :  he  should  do  as  he  pleased  and  would  not  hear 
what  they  had  to  say.  Upon  the  whole,  I  don't  know  but 
what  it  would  have  been  as  well  if  he  had  taken  them,  seeing 
matters  are  going  to  be  carried  with  so  high  a  hand.  For  any 


28  NEW  ENGLAND. 

further  comfort,  I  have  Boston  on  my  hands,  with  a  confirmed 
consumption  upon  him,  whom  I  had  not  the  least  thought  of 
being  troubled  with,  as  he  was  in  the  service  of  Major  Sweet 
of  the  Forty-seventh,  and  had  embarked  with  him,  but  was 
sent  on  shore  again  on  account  of  his  health.  I  am  well  in 
health,  thank  God,  and  have  been  so  the  whole  of  the  time, 
but  have  lived  at  the  rate  of  six  or  seven  hundred  sterling  a 
year ;  for  I  was  determined  to  eat  fresh  provisions  while  it 
was  to  be  got,  let  it  cost  what  it  would  ;  that  since  October  I 
have  scarce  eat  three  meals  of  salt  meat,  but  supplied  my 
family  with  fresh  at  the  rate  of  one  shilling  to  one  shilling  and 
sixpence  sterling  the  pound.  What  wood  was  to  be  got  was 
obliged  to  give  at  the  rate  of  twenty  dollars  a  cord  ;  and  coals, 
though  government  had  a  plenty,  I  could  not  procure  (not 
being  an  addresser  or  an  associator1),  though  I  offered  so  high 
as  fifty  dollars  for  a  chaldron,  and  that  at  a  season  when 
Nabby  and  John,  the  only  help  I  had,  were  under  inoculation 
for  the  small-pox,  that,  if  you'll  believe  me,  Bill,  I  was  necessi 
tated  to  burn  horse-dung.  Many  were  the  instances  of  the 
inhabitants  being  confined  to  the  provost  for  purchasing  fuel 
of  the  soldiers,  when  no  other  means  offered  to  keep  them 
from  perishing  with  cold  ;  yet  such  was  the  inhumanity  of  our 
masters,  that  they  were  even  denied  the  privilege  of  buying  the 
surplusage  of  the  soldiers'  rations.  Though  you  may  think 
we  had  plenty  of  cheese  and  porter,  yet  we  were  obliged  to 
give  from  fifteen  pence  to  two  shillings  a  pound  for  all  we  ate 
of  the  former ;  and  a  loaf  of  bread  of  the  size  we  formerly 
gave  threepence  for,  thought  ourselves  well  off  to  get  for  a 
shilling.  Butter  at  two  shillings.  Milk,  for  months  without 
tasting  any.  Potatoes  from  nine  shillings  to  ten  shillings  and 
sixpence  a  bushel,  and  every  thing  else  in  the  same  strain. 
Notwithstanding  which,  Bill,  I  can  safely  say  that  I  never 

1  An  addresser  was  one  of  those,  presumably  loyalists,  who  joined  in  congratu 
latory  addresses  to  Gage  and  Howe  on  different  occasions.  An  associator  was  one 
of  the  military  company  of  Loyal  American  Associators,  volunteers  who  had 
offered  their  services  to  the  commander-in-chief,  a..d  were  enrolled  under  that 
name. 


THE  SOLDIERS  IN  CAMBRIDGE   CAMP.        29 

suffered  the  least  depression  of  spirits  other  than  on  account 
of  not  having  heard  from  Ruthy  in  one  season  for  near  five 
months  ;  for  a  persuasion  that  my  country  would  eventually 
prevail  kept  up  my  spirits,  and  never  suffered  my  hopes  to 

fat/.1 

THE  SOLDIERS  IN  CAMBRIDGE  CAMP. 

[The  diaries  of  officers  and  soldiers  reveal  the  different  sides 
of  character  which  the  army  presented.  Here  is  Paul  Lunt, 
who  scrupulously  sets  down  "  nothing  remarkable "  against 
one  day  after  another,  and  does  not  forget  to  go  to  church 
whenever  it  is  possible,  and  record  the  text.  Benjamin  Craft, 
too,  on  the  23d  of  June  remarks  that  it  remains  very  dry,  and 
"  God's  judgments  seem  to  be  abroad  on  the  earth  may  we 
forsake  our  sins."  He  goes  to  church,  also,  and  hears  Mr. 
Murray,  who  prayed  well,  affecting  Benjamin  and  his  other 
hearers.  "  He  was  very  successful  in  gaining  the  attention  cf 
his  hearers,"  which  is  not  unlikely,  from  the  solitary  passage 
in  the  sermon  which  is  set  down  :  "  He  said  he  believed  the 
devil  was  a  Tory."  One  Sunday,  just  after  meeting,  two  float 
ing-batteries  came  up  Mystic  River,  and  the  alarm  was  given. 
We  "  fired  several  shot  at  the  regulars,  which  made  them  claw 
off  as  soon  as  possible.  Gen.  Gage,  this  is  like  the  rest  of 
your  sabbath-day  enterprises."  Little  David  How  —  we 
know  he  must  have  been  little  —  kept  a  diary  with  infinite 
pains,  as  judged  by  his  struggles  with  the  spelling-book,  and 
innocently  draws  a  picture  of  himself  as  irrecoverably  given 
over  to  swapping  and  trading.  He  buys  cider  and  chestnuts 
and  leather  breeches  and  half-boots,  and  trades  the  same  with 
an  eye  to  profit,  setting  down  complacently  on  the  3oth  of 
January,  "  We  have  sold  Nuts  and  Cyder  Every  Day  This 
Weak."  His  passion  for  trade  was  too  much  for  his  military 
ardor  ;  and  he  was  finally  given  leave  to  set  up  in  business  as 
a  bootmaker.  But  I  cannot  let  him  go  without  extracting  one 
further  entry  from  his  diary.]  March  5.  Our  people  went  to 

1  From  some  expressions  in  the  earlier  part  of  Andrews's  letters,  I  am  inclined 
to  suspect  that  his  great  confidence  in  his  country  was,  in  part,  an  emotion  after  the 
iact. 


3O  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Dodgster  hill  Last  Night  and  built  a  fort  there.  There  was 
afireing  of  Bums  all  Night  and  they  killed  one  man  at  Litch- 
mors  point  with  A  Bum.  They  have  ben  fireng  At  Dogester 
almost  all  Day.1 

[There  were  simple,  affectionate  men  in  camp,  who  longed  to 
return  to  their  families,  but  remained  steadfast  at  their  posts. 
One  cannot  read  such  artless  letters  as  those  of  William 
Turner  Miller,2  without  finding  in  the  uncouth  garb  the  tender 
ness  of  the  Puritan  nature  :  it  is  easy  to  pass  to  them  from  the 
earlier  letters  between  John  Winthrop  and  his  wife.]  Dearest 
Lydia,  he  writes,  I  receved  your  Kind  Letter  by  Mr.  Burr 
as  also  the  Inkstand  Corn  &  Cucumbers  you  sent  Every 
Letter  &  Present  from  you  is  Like  a  Cordial  to  me  in  my 
absence  from  you  my  Heart  is  delighted  in  Reading  Your 
Letters  Especially  when  on  the  Countenance  of  them  you 
Appear  to  be  in  Health  and  when  you  appear  by  your  Letters 
to  be  in  Trouble  I  Long  to  participate  with  you.  [And  again.] 
I  receved  Yours  wherein  you  Expressed  your  Joy  in  my  Not 
going  to  Quebeck  Remember  the  Psalmists  Expression,  if  I 
take  the  wings  of  the  Morning  and  fly  to  the  uttermost  Parts 
of  the  Sea  behold  Thou  art  there  I  doubt  not  but  where  Ever 
I  am  god  will  be  there  and  be  my  Stay  and  Support  my  Love 
I  had  it  under  Consideration  whither  to  offer  my  Self  to  go  to 
Quebec  and  had  so  far  Concluded  upon  the  matter  that  If  I 
had  been  Requested  to  go  I  should  not  have  Refused  though 
I  think  it  Carries  the  Appearance  of  a  Desparate  under 
taking. 

SHARPSHOOTING. 

[The  story  which  John  Andrews  tells  of  the  countryman 
who  derided  the  shots  of  the  British  marksmen  on  Boston 
Common  tallies  with  the  accounts  given  both  by  Americans 
and  Englishmen  of  the  skill  of  the  colonists,  whose  back 
woods  experience  had  made  them  very  ready  with  their  fowling- 

1  The  struggles  of  this  diarist  with  the  name  Dorchester  never  resulted  in  sub 
stantial  victory  for  the  speller.    Besides  the  above  forms,  he    experimented  on 
Docester  and  Dodesther. 

2  New  England  Historical  and  Genealogical  Register,  April,  1857. 


SHA  RPSHO  O  TING.  3  I 

pieces  -and  matchlocks.  A  correspondent  of  the  "  Virginia 
Gazette  "  writes,  "  One  of  the  gentlemen  appointed  to  command 
a  company  of  riflemen,  to  be  raised  in  one  of  the  frontier 
counties  of  Pennsylvania,  had  so  many  applications  from  the 
people  in  his  neighborhood,  to  be  enrolled  for  the  service,  that 
a  greater  number  presented  than  his  instructions  permitted 
him  to  engage,  and,  being  unwilling  to  give  offence  to  any, 
thought  of  the  following  expedient.  He,  with  apiece  of  chalk, 
drew  on  a  board  the  figure  of  a  nose  of  the  common  size, 
which  he  placed  at  the  distance  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
yards,  declaring  that  those  who  should  come  nearest  the  mark 
should  be  enlisted.  Sixty  odd  hit  the  object.  Gen.  Gage, 
take  care  of  your  nose."  l 

[The  same  journal  gives  the  following  further  account  of 
the  skill  of  some  riflemen.]  On  Friday  evening  last,  arrived 
at  Lancaster,  Penn.,  on  their  way  to  the  American  camp, 
Capt.  Cresap's  company  of  riflemen,  consisting  of  one  hun 
dred  and  thirty  active,  brave  young  fellows,  many  of  whom 
have  been  in  the  late  expedition,  under  Lord  Dunmore,  against 
the  Indians.  They  bear  in  their  bodies  visible  marks  of  their 
prowess,  and  show  scars  and  wounds  which  would  do  honor 
to  Homer's  Iliad.  They  show  you,  to  use  the  poet's  words,  — • 

"Where  the  gored  battle  bled  at  every  vein!'' 

One  of  these  warriors,  in  particular,  shows  the  cicatrices 
of  four  bullet-holes  through  his  body.  These  men  have  been 
bred  in  the  woods  to  hardships  and  dangers  from  their  infancy. 
They  appear  as  if  they  were  entirely  unacquainted  with,  and 
had  never  felt,  the  passion  of  fear.  With  their  rifles  in  their 
hands,  they  assume  a  kind  of  omnipotence  over  their  enemies. 
One  cannot  much  wonder  at  this,  when  we  mention  a  fact 
which  can  be  fully  attested  by  several  of  the  reputable  per 
sons  who  were  eye-witnesses  of  it.  Two  brothers  in  the  com 
pany  took  a  piece  of  board  five  inches  broad  and  seven  inches 
long,  with  a  bit  of  white  paper,  about  the  size  of  a  dollar, 

1  Virginia  Gazette,  July  22. 


32  NEW  ENGLAND. 

nailed  in  the  centre  ;  and,  while  one  of  them  supported  this 
board  perpendicularly  between  his  knees,  the  other,  at  the  dis 
tance  of  upwards  of  sixty  yards,  and  without  any  kind  of  rest, 
shot  eight  bullets  through  it  successively,  and  spared  a  brother's 
thigh.  Another  of  the  company  held  a  barrel-stave  perpen 
dicularly  in  his  hands  with  one  edge  close  to  his  side,  while 
one  of  his  comrades,  at  the  same  distance,  and  in  the  manner 
before  mentioned,  shot  several  bullets  through  it,  without  any 
apprehension  of  danger  on  either  side.  The  spectators,  appear 
ing  to  be  amazed  at  these  feats,  were  told  that  there  were  up 
wards  of  fifty  persons  in  the  same  company  who  could  do  the 
same  thing  ;  that  there  was  not  one  who  could  not  plug  nine 
teen  bullets  out  of  twenty,  as  they  termed  it,  within  an  inch 
of  the  head  of  a  tenpenny  nail.  In  short,  to  evince  the  confi 
dence  they  possessed  in  their  dexterity  at  this  kind  of  arms, 
some  of  them  proposed  to  stand  with  apples  on  their  heads, 
while  others,  at  the  same  distance,  undertook  to  shoot  them  off ; 
but  the  people  who  saw  the  other  experiments  declined  to  be 
witnesses  of  this.  At  night,  a  great  fire  was  kindled  around  a 
pole  planted  in  the  Court  House  Square,  where  the  company, 
with  the  captain  at  their  head,  all  naked  to  the  waist,  and 
painted  like  savages  (except  the  captain,  who  was  in  an  Indian 
shirt),  indulged  a  vast  concourse  of  people  with  a  perfect  exhi 
bition  of  a  war-dance,  and  all  the  manoeuvres  of  Indians,  — 
holding  council,  going  to  war,  circumventing  their  enemies  by 
defiles,  ambuscades,  attacking,  scalping,  &c.  It  is  said  by 
those  who  are  judges,  that  no  representation  could  possibly 
come  nearer  the  original.  The  captain's  expertness  and 
agility,  in  particular,  in  these  experiments,  astonished  every 
beholder.  This  morning  they  will  set  out  on  their  march  for 
Cambridge.1 

THE  GREENNESS  OF  SOLDIERS. 

[The  inexperience  of  the  men  who  assembled  in  a  motley 
gathering  to  defend  their  country,  the  queer  notions  they  had 

1  Virginia  Gazette,  Sept.  9,  and  Pennsylvania  Journal,  Aug.  23. 


THE   GREENNESS  OF  SOLDIERS.  33 

of  insubordination,  and  the  general  unmilitary  character  of  the 
early  soldiers,  are  illustrated  by  the  reminiscences  of  Elkanah 
Watson,  who  had  some  slight  part  in  the  opening  of  the  war, 
but  afterward  engaged  in  business  in  Europe.] 

On  the  3d  of  July,  1775,  Gen.  Washington  assumed  the 
command  of  the  forces  then  besieging  Boston.  He  found  an 
army  animated  with  zeal  and  patriotism,  but  nearly  destitute 
of  every  munition  of  war,  and  of  powder  in  particular.  Mr. 
Brown,  anticipating  the  war,  had  instructed  the  captains  of  his 
vessels  to  freight  on  their  return  voyages  with  that  article. 
At  this  crisis,  when  the  army  before  Boston  had  not  four 
rounds  to  a  man,  most  fortunately  one  of  Mr.  Brown's  ships 
brought  in  a  ton  and  a  half  of  powder.  It  was  immediately 
forwarded,  under  my  charge,  to  headquarters  at  Cambridge. 
I  took  with  me  six  or  eight  recruits  to  guard  it. 

I  delivered  my  letter  to  Gen.  Washington  in  person,  and 
was  deeply  impressed  with  an  emotion  I  cannot  describe,  in 
contemplating  that  great  man,  his  august  person,  his  majestic 
mien,  his  dignified  and  commanding  deportment,  —  the  more 
conspicuous,  perhaps,  at  that  moment,  from  the  fact  that  he 
was  in  the  act  of  admonishing  a  militia  colonial  with  some 
animation.  He  directed  a  young  officer  to  accompany  me,  and 
superintend  the  delivery  of  the  powder  at  Mystic,  two  miles 
distant.  Whilst  delivering  it  at  the  powder-house,  I  observed 
to  the  officer,  "  Sir,  I  am  happy  to  see  so  many  barrels  of 
powder  here."  He  whispered  a  secret  in  my  ear,  with  an 
indiscretion  that  marked  the  novice  in  military  affairs,  "  These 
barrels  are  filled  with  sand."  —  "  And  wherefore  ?  "  I  inquired. 
"  To  deceive  the  enemy,"  he  replied,  "  should  any  spy  by 
chance  look  in."  Such  was  the  wretched  appointment  of  that 
army  upon  which  rested  the  hopes  of  American  liberty. 

While  passing  through  the  camp,  I  overheard  a  dialogue 
between  a  captain  of  the  militia  and  one  of  his  privates,  which 
forcibly  illustrated  the  character  and  condition  of  this  army. 
"  Bill,"  said  the  captain,  "go  and  bring  a  pail  of  water  for  the 
mess."  —  "I  sha'n't,"  was  the  reply  of  Bill.  "  It  is  your  turn 
now,  captain  :  I  got  the  last."  Even  the  elements  of  subor- 
3 


34  NEW  ENGLAND. 

dination  had  then  scarcely  been  introduced.  Officers  and 
men  had  .rushed  to  the  field  under  the  ardent  impulses  of  a 
common  patriotism  ;  and  the  selections  of  the  former  by  the 
troops  or  their  appointments,  which  first  occurred,  were  rather 
accidental  and  temporary  than  controlled  from  any  regard  to 
superior  position  or  acquirement.  All,  to  a  great  extent,  had 
occupied  at  home  a  social  equality,  the  influence  of  which  still 
remained.  The  distinctions  of  rank,  and  the  restraints  of 
military  discipline  and  etiquette,  were  yet  to  be  established. 

THE  OFFICERS  AND  THEIR  SOCIETY. 

[The  military  operations  about  Boston  involved  little  active 
fighting  after  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill ;  but  until  the  evacua 
tion  of  the  town  in  March,  1776,  the  camp  at  Cambridge,  with 
its  lines  extending  on  the  right  to  Roxbury,  and  on  the  left  to 
Medford,  was  the  place  where  the  Continental  army  and  its 
officers  were  to  be  seen.  The  several  generals  who  made 
their  mark  in  later  campaigns  were  objects  of  curiosity  to  the 
gentry  about ;  and  Mrs.  John  Adams  has  sketched  rapidly  for 
us,  in  a  couple  of  letters  to  her  husband,  the  appearance  of  the 
most  notable  men.] 

The  appointment  of  the  generals,  Washington  and  Lee, 
gives  universal  satisfaction.  The  people  have  the  highest 
opinion  of  Lee's  abilities  ;  but  you  know  the  continuation  of 
the  popular  breath  depends  much  upon  favorable  events.  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  both  the  generals  and  their  aides- 
de-camp  soon  after  their  arrival,  and  of  being  personally  made 
known  to  them.  They  very  politely  express  their  regard  for 
you.  Major  Mifflin  said  he  had  orders  from  you  to  visit  me 
at  Braintree.  I  told  him  I  should  be  very  happy  to  see  him 
there,  and  accordingly  sent  Mr.  Thaxter  to  Cambridge,  with 
a  card  to  him  and  Mr.  Reed  to  dine  with  me.  Mrs.  Warren 
and  her  son  were  to  be  with  me.  They  very  politely  received 
the  message,  and  lamented  that  they  were  not  able  to  come, 
upon  account  of  expresses  which  they  were  on  that  day  to  get 
in  readiness  to  send  off. 

I  was  struck  with  Gen.  Washington.     You  had  prepared 


THE   OFFICERS  AND    THEIR  SOCIETY.         35 

me  to  entertain  a  favorable  opinion  of  him  ;  but  I  thought  the 
half  was  not  told  me.  Dignity  with  ease  and  complacency, 
the  gentleman  and  soldier,  look  agreeably  blended  in  him. 
Modesty  marks  every  line  and  feature  of  his  face.  Those 
lines  of  Dryden  instantly  occurred  to  me  :  — 

"  Mark  his  majestic  fabric :  he's  a  temple 
Sacred  by  birth,  and  built  by  hands  divine : 
His  soul's  the  deity  that  lodges  there; 
Nor  is  the  pile  unworthy  of  the  god." 

Gen.  Lee  looks  like  a  careless,  hardy  veteran,  and  by  his 
appearance  brought  to  my  mind  his  namesake,  Charles  the 
Twelfth  of  Sweden.  The  elegance  of  his  pen  far  exceeds 
that  of  his  person. 

I  have,  according  to  your  desire,  been  upon  a  visit  to  Mrs. 
Morgan,  who  keeps  at  Major  Mifflin's.  I  had  received  a 
message  from  Mrs.  Mifflin  some  time  ago,  desiring  I  would 
visit  her.  My  father,  who,  you  know,  is  very  obliging  in  this 
way,  accompanied  me  ;  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  drinking 
coffee  with  the  doctor  and  his  lady,  the  major  and  his  lady, 
and  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith  from  New  York,  a  daughter  of  the 
famous  son  of  liberty,  Capt.  Sears  ;  Gens.  Gates  and  Lee  ;  a 
Dr.  M'Henry  and  a  Mr.  Elwyn;  with  many  others  who  were 
strangers  to  me.  I  was  very  politely  entertained,  and  noticed 
by  the  generals,  more  especially  Gen.  Lee,  who  was  very 
urgent  with  me  to  tarry  in  town,  and  dine  with  him  and  the 
ladies  present  at  Hobgoblin  Hall ;  but  I  excused  myself.  The 
general  was  determined  that  I  should  not  only  be  acquainted 
with  him,  but  with  his  companions  too,  and  therefore  placed  a 
chair  before  me,  into  which  he  ordered  Mr.  Spada  to  mount, 
and  present  his  paw  to  me  for  a  better  acquaintance.  I  could 
not  do  otherwise  than  accept  it.  "  That,  madam,"  says  he, 
"  is  the  dog  which  Mr.  — —  has  rendered  famous." 

I  was  so  little  while  in  company  with  these  persons,  and 
the  company  so  mixed,  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  form 
any  judgment  of  them.  The  doctor  appeared  modest,  and 
his  lady  affable  and  agreeable.  Major  Mifflin,  you  know,  I 


30  NEW  ENGLAND. 

was  always  an  admirer  of,  as  well  as  of  his  delicate  lady.  I 
believe  Philadelphia  must  be  an  unfertile  soil,  or  it  would  not 
produce  so  many  unfruitful  women.  I  always  conceive  of 
these  persons  as  wanting  one  addition  to  their  happiness  ;  but, 
in  these  perilous  times,  I  know  not  whether  it  ought  to  be 
considered  as  an  infelicity,  since  they  are  certainly  freed  from 
the  anxiety  every  parent  must  feel  for  their  rising  offspring. 

I  drank  coffee  one  day  with  Gen.  Sullivan  upon  Winter 
Hill.  He  appears  to  be  a  man  of  sense  and  spirit.  His 
countenance  denotes  him  of  a  warm  constitution,  not  to  be 
very  suddenly  moved,  but,  when  once  roused,  not  very  easily 
lulled,  easy  and  social,  well  calculated  for  a  military  station, 
as  he  seems  to  be  possessed  of  those  popular  qualities  neces 
sary  to  attach  men  to  him. 

THE  BARONESS  RIEDESEL  AT  CAMBRIDGE. 

[The  town  of  Boston  and  its  immediate  neighborhood  heard 
little  from  this  time  of  the  actual  conduct  of  the  war  ;  but  in 
the  fall  of  1777  there  was  much  excitement  over  the  arrival 
there  of  Burgoyne's  army,  which  had  been  surrendered  to 
Gen.  Gates  at  Saratoga,  and  was  in  waiting  to  be  transported 
to  England.  Prominent  among  the  officers  was  the  German 
general,  Riedesel,  who  with  his  bright,  naive  wife  were  quar 
tered  in  the  Lechmere  mansion,  still  standing  in  Cambridge. 
The  Baroness  Riedesel  gives  a  lively  account  of  their  stay 
there  ;  and,  if  she  indulges  in  some  credulous  gossip,  it  is 
quite  permissible  for  any  reader  to  reject  what  is  disagreeable.] 

At  last  we  arrived  at  Boston ;  and  our  troops  were  quar 
tered  in  barracks  not  far  from  Winter  Hill.1  We  were 
billeted  at  the  .house  of  a  countryman,  where  we  had  only  one 
room  under  the  roof.  My  women-servants  slept  on  the  floor, 
and  our  men-servants  in  the  entry.  Some  straw,  which  I 
placed  under  our  beds,  served  us  for  a  long  time,  as  I  had 

1  Winter  Hill,  where  most  of  the  German  prisoners  were  quartered,  was  at 
that  time  covered  with  wretched  barracks,  made  of  boards,  that  had  been  erected 
there  in  1775  for  the  purpose  of  affording  a  shelter  (though  a  scanty  one)  to  the 
Americans  while  besieging  Gen.  Gage  in  Boston. —  W.  C.  Stone. 


THE  BARONESS  RIEDESEL  AT  CAMBRIDGE.     37 

with  me  nothing  more  than  my  own  field-bed.  Our  host 
allowed  us  to  eat  in  his  room,  where  the  whole  family  together 
ate  and  slept.  The  man  was  kind  ;  but  the  woman,  in  order  to 
revenge  herself  for  the  trouble  we  brought  upon  her,  cut  up 
the  prank,  every  time  we  sat  down  to  table,  of  taking  that 
time  to  comb  out  her  children's  heads,  which  were  full  of  ver 
min  ;  which  very  often  entirely  took  away  our  appetites. 
And  if  we  begged  her  to  do  this  outside,  or  select  another 
time  for  this  operation,  she  would  answer  us,  "It  is  my 
room,  and  I  like  to  comb  my  children's  hair  at  this  time." 
We  were  obliged,  therefore,  to  be  silent,  lest  she  should  thrust 
us  out  of  the  house. 

One  day  the  gentlemen  of  our  party  celebrated  in  this  filthy 
place  the  birthday,  I  believe,  of  the  Queen  of  England,  and 
drank  on  this  occasion  a  great  deal  of  wine.  My  oldest  little 
daughters,  Gustava  and  Frederica,  who  had  noticed  that  the 
wine  that  was  left  over  had  been  placed  under  the  stairs, 
thought  it  would  be  a  fine  thing  for  them,  in  their  turn,  to  drink 
the  queen's  health.  They,  accordingly,  seated  themselves 
before  the  door,  and  toasted  so  much,  —  that  is,  drank  healths, 
—  that  their  little  heads  could  not  bear  more.  Frederica 
became  sick  of  a  fever,  which  gave  me  the  more  anxiety  as 
she  had  spasms  with  it,  and  I  was  entirely  at  a  loss  to  know 
the  cause.  When,  finally,  Nature  helped  herself  by  vomiting, 
then  I  saw  that  it  was  the  wine,  and  blamed  the  little  maidens 
greatly,  who,  however,  replied  that  they,  also,  loved  the  king 
and  queen,  and  could  not,  therefore,  resist  wishing  them  hap 
piness. 

We  remained  three  weeks  at  this  place,  until  they  trans 
ferred  us  to  Cambridge,  where  they  lodged  us  in  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  houses  of  the  place,  which  had  formerly  been 
built  by  the  wealth  of  the  Royalists.  Never  had  I  chanced 
upon  such  an  agreeable  situation.  Seven  families,  who  were 
connected  with  each  other,  partly  by  the  ties  of  relationship, 
and  partly  by  affection,  had  here  farms,  gardens,  and  magnifi 
cent  houses,  and  not  far  off  plantations  of  fruit.  The  owners 
of  these  were  in  the  habit  of  daily  meeting  each  other  in  the 


38  NEW  ENGLAND. 

afternoons,  now  at  the  house  of  one,  and  now  at  another,  and 
making  themselves  merry  with  music  and  the  dance,  living 
in  prosperity,  united  and  happy,  until,  alas  !  this  ruinous  war 
severed  them,  and  left  all  their  houses  desolate,  except  two, 
the  proprietors  of  which  were  also  soon  obliged  to  flee. 

None  of  our  gentlemen  were  allowed  to  go  into  Boston. 
Curiosity  and  desire  urged  me  to  pay  a  visit  to  Madame  Car 
ter,  the  daughter  of  Gen.  Schuyler ;  and  I  dined  at  her  house 
several  times.  The  city  throughout  is  pretty,  but  inhabited 
by  violent  patriots,  and  full  of  wicked  people.  The  women, 
especially,  were  so  shameless,  that  they  regarded  me  with 
repugnance,  and  even  spit  at  me  when  I  passed  by  them. 
Madame  Carter  was  as  gentle  and  good  as  her  parents  ;  but 
her  husband  was  wicked  and  treacherous.  She  came  often  to 
visit  us,  and  also  dined  at  our  house  with  the  other  generals. 
We  sought  to  show  them  by  every  means  our  gratitude. 
They  seemed,  also,  to  have  much  friendship  for  us  ;  and  yet, 
at  the  same  time,  this  miserable  Carter,  when  the  English 
general,  Howe,  had  burned  many  hamlets  and  small  towns, 
made  the  horrible  proposition  to  the  Americans  to  chop  off 
the  heads  of  our  generals,  salt  them  clown  in  small  barrels, 
and  send  over  to  the  English  one  of  these  barrels  for  every 
hamlet  or  little  town  burned  down  ;  but  this  barbarous  sug 
gestion  fortunately  was  not  adopted. 

During  my  sojourn  at  Bristol,  in  England,  I  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  a  Capt.  Fenton  from  Boston,  to  whom  the 
Americans,  upon  the  breaking-out  of  the  war,  had  sent  a 
summons,  but  which,  true  to  his  king,  he  would  not  obey. 
Upon  this,  the  women  of  the  exasperated  rabble  seized  his 
wife  (a  woman  deserving  of  all  esteem),  and  his  very 
beautiful  daughter  of  fifteen  years,  and  without  regard  to  their 
goodness,  beauty,  or  modesty,  stripped  them  naked,  be 
smeared  them  with  tar,  rolled  them  in  feathers,  and  in  this 
condition,  led  them  through  the  city  as  a  show.  What  might 
not  be  expected  from  such  people,  inspired  with  the  most 
bitter  hatred  ! 

In  the  same  manner,  there  were  two  brothers  who  had 


THE  BARONESS  RIEDESEL  AT  CAMBRIDGE.     39 

loved  each  other  very  much,  one  of  whom  had  espoused  the 
side  of  the  king,  and  the  other  that  of  the  republicans.  The 
former,  desiring  again  to  see  his  brother,  obtained  permission, 
and  paid  him  a  visit.  His  brother  received  him  with  great 
joy,  and  said  to  him,  "  How  rejoiced  am  I  to  see  you  return 
to  the  good  cause  !  "  — "  No,  my  brother,"  answered  the 
Royalist,  "  I  remain  true  to  my  king  ;  but  this  shall  not  hinder 
me  from  loving  you."  At  this,  the  American  sprang  up  in  a 
fury,  seized  a  pistol,  and  threatened  to  shoot  him  if  he  did 
not  instantly  go  away.  All  the  representations  of  the  good 
brother,  that  their  differences  of  opinion  should  not  alter  his 
love,  availed  nothing.  The  other  exclaimed,  "  Only  my  old 
love  for  you  hinders  me  from  shooting  you  this  very  moment ; 
for  every  Royalist  is  my  enemy."  And  he  would  certainly 
have  carried  out  his  threat,  if  his  brother  had  not  finally  made 
his  escape.  Almost  every  family  was  disunited ;  and  I  saw 
here  that  nothing  is  more  terrible  than  a  civil  war.  With  such 
people  we  were  obliged  to  live,  or  see  no  one  whatever.  I 
naturally  preferred  the  latter. 

Gen.  Phillips  was,  and  remained,  ever  our  kind  and  sin 
cere  friend ;  and  we  saw  much  of  him.  Our  house,  also,  was 
constantly  full  of  Englishmen,  after  we  learned  that  it  was 
considered  by  them  polite  usage  to  invite  them  to  call  again. 
Before  we  knew  this,  we  observed,  to  our  astonishment,  that 
some  courteous  people,  whom  we  had  received  kindly,  came 
not  again.  After  this,  we  adopted  the  same  custom,  and  found 
it  very  convenient,  since  one  could  make  a  selection  of  those 
whose  company  was  most  agreeable.  Still  a  few  persons 
favored  us  with  their  presence  unasked,  who  were,  as  the 
English  term  it,  "  barefaced." 

While  in  Cambridge,  I  saw  an  entire  house  carried  off 
upon  long  logs,  to  the  ends  of  which  they  had  attached  wheels. 
The  house  is  raised  by  a  screw,  the  logs  shoved  underneath 
it,  and  the  building  is  then  moved  readily.1 

1  "This  American  manner  of  moving  houses  is  as  unknown  to  the  English  at  the 
present  day  as  it  was  to  Mrs.  Riedesel  almost  a  century  since.  A  gentleman  last 
year  (1866),  chancing  to  be  in  a  company  of  intelligent  and  educated  English  peo- 


4O  NEW  ENGLAND. 

On  the  3d  of  June,  1778,  I  gave  a  ball  and  supper  in 
celebration  of  the  birthday  of  my  husband.  I  had  invited  to  it 
all  the  generals  and  officers.  The  Carters,  also,  were  there. 
Gen.  Burgoyne  sent  an  excuse,  after  he  had  made  us  wait  till 
eight  o'clock  in  the  evening.  He  invariably  excused  himself, 
on  various  pretences,  from  coming  to  see  us,  until  his  depar 
ture  for  England,  when  he  came,  and  made  me  a  great  many 
apologies,  but  to  which  I  made  no  other  answer  than  that  I 
should  be  extremely  sorry  if  he  had  gone  out  of  his  way  on 
our  account.  We  danced  considerably  ;  and  our  cook  pre 
pared  us  a  magnificent  supper  of  more  than  eighty  covers. 
Moreover,  our  courtyard  and  garden  were  illuminated.  As 
the  birthday  of  the  King  of  England  came  upon  the  following 
day,  which  was  the  fourth,  it  was  resolved  that  we  would  not 
separate  until  his  health  had  been  drank  ;  which  was  done  with 
the  most  hearty  attachment  to  his  person  and  his  interests. 

Never,  I  believe,  has  "God  save  the  King"  been  sung 
with  more  enthusiasm  or  more  genuine  good-will.  Even  both 
my  oldest  little  daughters  were  there,  having  staid  up  to  see 
the  illumination.  All  eyes  were  full  of  tears  ;  and  it  seemed 
as  if  every  one  present  was  proud  to  have  the  spirit  to  ven 
ture  to  do  this  in  the  midst  of  our  enemies.  Even  the  Car 
ters  could  not  shut  their  hearts  against  us.  As  soon  as  the 
company  separated,  we  perceived  that  the  whole  house  was 
surrounded  by  Americans,  who  having  seen  so  many  people 
go  into  the  house,  and  having  noticed,  also,  the  illumination, 
suspected  that  we  were  planning  a  mutiny  ;  and,  if  the  slight 
est  disturbance  had  arisen,  it  would  have  cost  us  dear.  The 
Americans,  when  they  desire  to  collect  their  troops  together, 
place  burning  torches  of  pitch  upon  the  hilltops,  at  which 
signal  every  one  hastens  to  the  rendezvous.  We  were  once 
witnesses  of  this,  when  Gen.  Howe  attempted  a  landing  at 
Boston  in  order  to  rescue  the  captive  troops.  They  learned 
of  this  plan,  as  usual,  long  beforehand,  and  opened  barrels  of 

pie  in  England,  alluded,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  to  this  custom,  upon  \vh;ch  his 
hearers  thought  he  designed  to  hoax  them  ;  nor  was  it  until  he  had  convinced  them 
of  having  no  such  intention  that  they  could  be  induced  to  credit  it." — IV.  L .  Stone. 


GERMAN  PORTRAIT  OF  NEW-ENGLANDERS.     41 

pitch,  whereupon,  for  three  or  four  successive  days,  a  large 
number  of  people,  without  shoes  and  stockings,  and  with 
guns  on  their  backs,  were  seen  hastily  coming  from  all  direc 
tions,  by  which  means  so  many  people  came  together  so  soon, 
that  it  would  have  been  a  very  difficult  thing  to  effect  a  land 
ing." 

A  GERMAN  PORTRAIT  OF  NEW-ENGLANDERS. 

[Gen.  Riedesel,  who  was  less  buoyant  than  his  wife,  has 
drawn  a  picture  of  New-England  people,  to  understand  the 
color  of  which,  one  must  place  himself  by  the  side  of  the  dis 
appointed  and  defeated  general.] 

One  can  see  in  these  men  here  assembled  exactly  the 
national  character  of  the  inhabitants  of  New  England.  They 
are  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  their  manner  of  dress. 
Thus  they  all,  under  a  thick,  round,  yellow  wig,  bear  the  hon 
orable  physiognomy  of  a  magistrate.  Their  dress  is  after 
the  old  English  fashion.  Over  this  they  wear,  winter  and 
summer,  a  blue  blouse,  with  sleeves,  which  is  fastened  round 
the  body  by  a  strap.  One  hardly  ever  sees  any  of  them  with 
out  a  whip.  They  are  generally  thickset,  and  middling  tall ; 
and  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  one  from  another.  Not  one- 
tenth  of  them  can  read  writing ;  and  still  fewer  can  write. 
This  art  belongs,  aside  from  the  literary  men,  exclusively  to 
the  female  sex.  The  women  are  well  educated,  and  there 
fore  know  better  than  any  other  matrons  in  the  world  how  to 
govern  the  men.  The  New-Englanders  all  want  to  be  politi 
cians,  and  love,  therefore,  the  taverns  and  the  grog-bowl, 
behind  the  latter  of  which  they  transact  business,  drinking 
from  morning  till  night.  They  are  extremely  inquisitive, 
credulous,  and  zealous  to  madness  for  liberty  ;  but  they  are,  at 
the  same  time,  so  blind,  that  they  cannot  see  the  heavy  yoke 
imposed  upon  them  by  their  congress,  under  which  they  are 
already  sinking. 

NEW-ENGLANDERS  SEEN  BY  A  BRITISH  OFFICER. 

[One  of  the  officers  who  served  in  Burgoyne's  campaign, 
Lieut.  Anburey,  has  given  in  his  "Travels  through  the  Interior 


42  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Parts  of  America,"  a  frank  narrative  of  the  experience  the 
defeated  army  went  through  when  making  their  way  across  the 
State  of  Massachusetts,  after  the  defeat  at  Saratoga.  In  his 
narrative  also  occur  some  sketches  of  New  England  character, 
which  may  be  placed  beside  those  of  Gen.  and  Baroness 
Riedesel.] 

In  our  way  hither,  we  passed  through  a  small,  neat  town, 
called  Worcester,  where  I  met  accidentally  with  one  of  the 
committee-men  who  was  upon  the  examination  of  a  poor 
fellow  sent  from  our  army  to  Gen.  Clinton,  and  who  very 
imprudently  swallowed  the  silver  egg  that  contained  the  mes 
sage  to  the  general,  in  the  presence  of  those  who  took  him 
prisoner.  After  tormenting  the  poor  fellow  with  emetics  and 
purgatives,  till  he  discharged  it,  they  immediately  hung  him 
up.  The  egg  was  opened,  and  the  paper  taken  out,  on  which 
was  written,  "  Nous  y  void :  here  we  are:  nothing  between 
us  but  Gates."  The  committee-men .  stared  at  each  other, 
observing  it  contained  no  intelligence  that  could  be  of  service. 
One  of  them,  however,  reflected  that  nous  y  void  was  French, 
and  that  might  contain  a  good  deal.  None  of  them  under 
standing  a  word  of  that  language,  they  sent  to  the  jail  for  a 
poor  Canadian,  who  was  a  prisoner,  to  translate  it  for  them. 
He  informed  them  it  meant  here  we  are  ;  but,  as  that  was  in 
English,  they  would  not  credit  it.  At  last  one  very  saga 
ciously  observed,  that  it  certainly  was  some  private  mark,  or 
correspondence  between  the  two  generals  ;  and,  as  none  of 
them  had  much  military  knowledge,  it  was  thought  proper  to 
send  it  to  Gen.  Washington,  who  certainly  would  understand 
it  better. 

As  we  passed  from  this  town,  at  a  small  village  there  were 
assembled  a  great  concourse  of  people  to  see  us  march,  who 
were  very  curious,  some  lifting  up  their  hands,  and  praying  to 
Heaven,  some  admiring  the  soldiers,  others  looking  with 
astonishment.  But  among  the  crowd  stood  foremost  an  old 
woman,  who  appeared  to  be  near  an  hundred,  upon  whom 
your  old  friend,  Lieut.  M'Neil  of  the  Ninth  Regiment,  thought 
to  be  a  little  witty ;  in  which,  however,  he  was  fairly  worsted. 


NEW-ENGLANDERS,  BY  A   BRITISH  OFFICER.      43 

As  this  old  woman  attracted  the  notice  of  every  one,  when  he 
passed,  he  said  to  her,  "  So,  you  old  fool,  you  must  come 
and  see  the  lions. ."  But  with  great  archness  she  replied, 
"  Lions,  lions !  I  declare,  now,  I  think  you  look  more  like 
lambs!" 

The  lower  class  of  these  Yankees  —  apropos,  it  may  not  be 
amiss  here  just  to  observe  to  you  the  etymology  of  this  term  : 
it  is  derived  from  a  Cherokee  word,  eankke,  which  signifies 
coward  and  slave.  This  epithet  of  Yankee  was  bestowed  upon 
the  inhabitants  of  New  England  by  the  Virginians,  for  not 
assisting  them  in  a  war  with  the  Cherokees  ;  and  they  have 
always  been  held  in  derision  by  it.  But  the  name  has  been 
more  prevalent  since  the  commencement  of  hostilities.  The 
soldiery  at  Boston  used  it  as  a  term  of  reproach  ;  but,  after 
the  affair  of  Bunker  Hill,  the  Americans  gloried  in  it. 
Yankee-doodle  is  now  their  paean,  a  favorite  of  favorites, 
played  in  their  army,  esteemed  as  warlike  as  the  Grenadier's 
March  :  it  is  the  lover's  spell,  the  nurse's  lullaby.  After 
our  rapid  successes,  we  held  the  Yankees  in  great  contempt ; 
but  it  was  not  a  little  mortifying  to  hear  them  play  this  tune 
when  their  army  marched  down  to  our  surrender. 

We  were  escorted  on  our  march  by  the  brigade  of  a  Gen. 
Brickett.  He  was  very  civil,  and  often  used  to  ride  by  the 
side  of  the  officers  to  converse  with  them.  One  day,  as  he 
was  jogging  along  with  our  friend  Sone,  he  complained  to  the 
general  that  he  was  very  uncomfortable,  in  such  wet  weather 
and  bad  roads,  for  want  of  a  pair  of  boots,  and  that  those  he 
had,  with  all  his  baggage,  were  taken  in  a  batteaux j  when 
the  general  said  he  would  sell  him  those  he  had  on.  Sone 
was  rather  surprised  at  the  offer  of  the  brigadier-general,  and 
asked  him  how  many  paper  dollars  he  would  take.  The  gen 
eral  told  him  he  would  only  part  with  them  for  gold ;  when  Sone 
offered  him  a  guinea  for  them.  The  general  instantly  got  off 
his  horse,  and,  after  he  had  taken  a  pair  of  shoes  out  of  his 
saddle-bags,  was  proceeding  to  pull  off  his  boots.  Sone  told 
him  there  was  no  such  hurry  :  it  would  do  when  they  arrived 
at  the  end  of  the  day's  march.  He  replied,  he  should  not  be 


44  NEW  ENGLAND. 

long  in  pulling  them  off,  and  he  had  got  a  pair  of  country 
boots  to  put  on,  which  are  pieces  of  cloth  folded  round  the 
leg,  and  tied  at  the  knee  and  ankle.  Upon  being  requested  to 
defer  it  till  we  got  into  quarters,  he  mounted  his  horse,  rode 
forwards,  and  on  our  halt  diligently  searched  out  for  Sone, 
when  he  completed  his  bargain,  and  parted  with  his  boots. 
So  much  for  an  American  brigadier-general ! 

The  character  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  province  is  im 
proved  beyond  the  description  that  our  Uncle  B gave  us 

of  them  when  he  quitted  this  country  thirty  years  ago  ;  but 
Puritanism  and  a  spirit  of  persecution  are  not  yet  totally 
extinguished.  The  gentry  of  both  sexes  are  hospitable  and 
good-natured,  with  an  air  of  civility  in  their  behavior,  but  con 
strained  by  formality  and  preciseness.  Even  the  women, 
though  easiness  of  carriage  is  peculiarly  characteristic  to  their 
nature,  appear  here  with  much  stiffness  and  reserve.  They 
are  formed  by  symmetry,  handsome,  and  have  delicate  com 
plexions  :  the  men  are  tall,  thin,  and  generally  long  visaged. 
Both  sexes  have  universally,  and  even  proverbially,  bad  teeth, 
which  must,  probably,  be  occasioned  by  their  eating  so  much 
molasses,  making  use  of  it  at  all  meals,  and  even  eating  it 
with  greasy  pork. 

Conversing  one  day  with  a  Virginia  officer  relative  to  the 
curiosity  of  the  New-Englanders,  he  told  me,  that  finding  he 
never  could  procure  any  refreshment  for  himself  or  horse  till 
after  he  answered  all  their  questions,  and  they  had  compared 
them  with  their  information,  he  adopted  the  following  mode  to 
avoid  their  inquisitive  delays  :  Whenever  he  travelled  from 
his  own  province  to  Boston,  and  alighted  at  an  ordinary  (the 
name  given  to  inns  in  America ;  and  some  justly  merit  that 
title),  the  master  or  mistress,  and  other  company  in  the  house, 
assembled  at  the  door,  and  he  began  in  this  manner  :  "  Wor 
thy  people,  I  am  Mr. of  Virginia,  by  trade  a  tobacco- 
planter,  and  a  bachelor.  Have  some  friends  at  Boston,  whom 
I  am  going  to  visit.  My  stay  will  be  short,  when  I  shall  return 
and  follow  my  business,  as  a  prudent  man  ought  to  do.  This 
is  all  I  know  of  myself,  and  all  I  can  possibly  inform  you.  I 


SOCIAL  RANK  IN  COLLEGE.  45 

have  no  news.  And  now,  having  told  you  every  thing,  have 
compassion  upon  me  and  my  horse,  and  give  us  some  refresh 
ment." 

SOCIAL  RANK  IN  COLLEGE. 

[The  occupation  of  Harvard  College  buildings  by  the  troops 
during  the  operations  about  Boston  interrupted  the  college 
work;  and  it  was  only  when  the  evacuation  of  Boston  led  to 
the  withdrawal  of  forces,  that  the  buildin-gs  were  re-occupied 
by  the  students,  and  college  studies  resumed.  The  questions 
which  the  war  introduced  were  eagerly  discussed ;  and  the 
change  which  was  rapidly  going  on  in  society  without  was  re 
peated  within  the  college  walls.  Old  customs  which  regarded 
social  rank  remained  long  in  college,  which  is  usually  conser 
vative  ;  and  the  next  few  years  witnessed  the  gradual  or  violent 
disuse  of  manners  which  were  dependent  upon  distinctions  of 
rank.  It  is  still  within  the  memory  of  men,  that  families  were 
given  seats  in  the  village  church  corresponding  to  their  social 
rank  ;  and  many  were  the  heart-burnings  that  ensued.  This 
placing  by  rank  was  a  regular  custom  at  college.  Dr.  Lothrop 
of  Boston  furnishes  the  recently  published  Harvard  Book 
with  the  following  anecdote  regarding  the  breaking-up  of  an 
other  custom  which  belonged  to  the  same  period.] 

In  a  conversation  about  obsolete  college-customs,  I  heard 
my  uncle,  Dr.  Kirkland,  say  that  the  usage  which  required  a 
Freshman  to  take  off  his  hat  if  one  of  the  higher  classes  was 
in  the  college-yard,  and  remain  uncovered  till  he  had  entered 
one  of  the  buildings,  or  was  out  of  the  college-grounds,  was 
broken  up  by  the  firmness  and  independence  of  the  late  Prof. 
Levi  Hedge  ;  and  he  related  the  anecdote  as  follows  :  Mr. 

D having  found  Mr.  Hedge,  a  Freshman  of  a  few  weeks' 

standing,  refractory  upon  this  point,  called  on  Pres.  Willard, 
and  complained  that  Freshman  Hedge  violated  this  custom, 
and  had  refused  several  times,  when  he  met  him,  and  asked 
him  to  take  off  his  hat.  After  considering  a  moment,  the 

president  said,  "  D ,  do  you  go  to  Hedge's  room,  and  tell 

him  that  I  want  to  see  him  immediately  ;  and  do  you  come 
back  with  him."  D executed  his  errand  in  high  glee, 


46  NEW  ENGLAND. 

entering  Hedge's  room  with  the  exclamation,  "  Come,  Hedge, 
you  must  go  down  with  me  to  the  president's  study.  I  have 
complained  to  him  about  your  not  taking  off  your  hat ;  and  he 
told  me  to  tell  you  that  he  wanted  to  see  you  immediately, 
and  he  said  I  must  return  with  you.  I  guess  you  have  got  to 
take  it  now.  Come  quick."  —  "  Certainly,"  said  Hedge.  "  I  will 
go  with  you  immediately."  And,  putting  on  his  hat,  they  walked 
out  of  the  room  together.  The  moment  they  emerged  from 

the  building,  D stopped,  and,  turning  to  him,  said,  "Come, 

Hedge,  off  with  your  hat,  sir.  I  am  going  to  have  no  more  of 
this  thing,  I  can  tell  you." —  "  Very  well,  sir,"  said  Hedge,  and, 
immediately  uncovering,  said,  "  There,  sir,  my  hat  is  off,  and 

now,"  bringing  his  doubled  fist  in  close  proximity  with  D 's 

face,  —  "  now  take  off  yours."     D ,  surprised  at  the  new 

turn  affairs  had  taken,  hesitated  a  moment ;  but  on  Hedge's 
repeating,  with  a  tone,  a  look,  and  an  expletive  that  evidently 
meant  business,  —  "  Take  it  off,  sir,  instantly,  or  I  will  knock 
you  down  !  "  —  quietly  took  it  off ;  and  the  two  walked  along 
uncovered.  Meeting  a  senior  between  Harvard  and  Massa 
chusetts  Halls,  D was  disposed,  and  made  a  movement,  to 

put  his  hat  on  ;  but  the  stern,  determined  voice  came,  "  Keep 
it  off,  sir,  or  I  will  knock  you  down  !  "  So  the  senior  smiled  ; 

and  D and   Hedge  passed  on  to  the  president's  study. 

Immediately  on  entering,  the   president   said,  "  How  is  this, 

Hedge  ?     D says  you  do  not  take  off  your  hat  when  you 

see  him,  or  meet  him  in  the  college-yard."  Hedge  answered, 
"  I  don't  like  the  custom  that  prevails  here.  There  is  no  law 
ordering  or  enforcing  it,  I  believe.  In  the  college-yard,  or  out 
of  it,  anywhere,  I  am  perfectly  ready  to  take  off  my  hat  to 
any  gentleman  who  shows  me  the  same  courtesy."  At  this 
point,  D broke  in  with  an  account  of  what  had  just  oc 
curred.  "  Ah,  ha  !  "  says  the  president,  "  Hedge  took  off  his  hat 
the  moment  you  asked  him  to  do  so,  did  he  not  ?  "  —  "  Yes,  sir." 
—  "  What  did  he  do  then  ?  "  —  "  He  told  me  to  take  off  my  hat, 
or  he  would  knock  me  down."  —  "Well,  what  did  you  do  ?"  — 
"  Why,  sir,  I  didn't  want  to  have  a  fight,  or  be  knocked  down  : 
so  I  took  off  my  hat."  —  "  Very  well,  D ,  I  think  that  is  a 


COMMONS.  47 

good  rule  for  you  and  for  others.  If  you  don't  want  to  be 
knocked  down,  take  off  your  own  hat  to  those  whom  you 
expect  or  desire  should  render  a  like  courtesy  to  you."  And 
so  the  custom  was  broken  up. 

COMMONS. 

[The  Harvard  Book  has  also  gathered  the  reminiscences  of 
several  respecting  what  seems  to  have  made  a  very  vivid  im 
pression  upon  most  students'  memories,  viz.,  how  and  what 
they  ate.]  When  dinner  was  the  only  meal  that  was  regularly 
served  in  the  hall,  the  students  were  allowed  to  receive  at  the 
kitchen-hatch,  or  at  the  buttery-hatch,  a  bowl  of  milk  or  choc 
olate,  with  a  piece  of  bread,  or  some  equally  simple  refresh 
ment,  at  morning  and  evening.  This  refreshment  they  could 
eat  in  the  yard,  or  in  their  rooms.  At  the  appointed  hour  for 
"bevers,"  as  these  frugal  meals  were  named,  there  was  a  general 
rush  for  the  buttery  or  kitchen  ;  and  if  the  walking  happened 
to  be  bad,  or  if  it  was  winter,  many  ludicrous  accidents  usually 
occurred.  One,  perhaps,  would  slip  :  his  bowl  and  its  contents 
would  fly  this  way,  and  his  bread  that ;  while  he,  prostrate, 
afforded  an  excellent  stumbling-block  for  those  immediately 
behind  him.  These,  falling  in  their  turn,  would  spatter  with 
the  milk  or  chocolate  not  only  their  own  persons,  but  the 
persons  of  those  near  them.  Sometimes  the  spoons  were  the 
only  tangible  evidence  of  the  meal  remaining.  But  with  a 
hearty  laugh,  if  not  injured,  each  would  soon  extricate  himself 
from  the  recumbent  mass,  and,  returning  to  the  buttery  or 
kitchen,  would  order  a  fresh  bowl  of  food,  to  be  charged  with 
the  sizings  at  the  close  of  the  quarter.  .  .  .  For  many  years 
prior,  and  for  some  years  subsequent,  to  the  year  1800,  the 
hall  where  the  students  took  their  meals  was  usually  provided 
with  ten  tables.  At  each  table  were  placed  two  messes  ;  and 
each  mess  consisted  of  eight  persons.  The  tables  where  the 
tutors  and  seniors  sat  were  raised  eighteen  or  twenty  inches, 
so  as  to  overlook  the  rest.  As  late  as  1771,  the  names  of  the 
students  were  placed  according  to  the  rank  of  the  parents 
of  the  students.  Those  whose  names  came  at  or  near  the 


48  NEW  ENGLAND. 

head  of  the  list  were  allowed,  among  other  privileges,  "  to 
help  themselves  first  at  table  in  commons,"  and  took  the 
most  prominent  positions  at  the  commons  tables.  It  was  the 
duty  of  one  of  the  tutors,  or  of  the  librarian,  to  "  ask  a  blessing, 
and  return  thanks  ;  "  and,  in  their  absence,  the  duty  devolved 
on  the  "  senior  graduate  or  undergraduate."  The  waiters  were 
students  chosen  from  the  different  classes  ;  and  they  received 
for  their  services  suitable  compensation.  Each  table  was 
waited  on  by  members  of  the  class  which  occupied  it,  with  the 
exception  of  the  tutors'  table,  at  which  members  of  the  senior 
class  served.  Unlike  the  sizars  and  servitors  at  the  English 
universities,  the  waiters  were  usually  much  respected,  and 
were,  in  many  cases,  the  best  scholars  in  their  respective 
classes.  The  breakfast  consisted  of  a  specified  quantity  of 
coffee,  a  size  of  baker's  biscuit,  which  was  one  biscuit,  and  a 
size  of  butter,  which  was  about  an  ounce.  If  any  one  wished 
for  more  than  was  provided,  he  was  obliged  to  size  it,  i.e., 
order  it  from  the  kitchen  or  buttery ;  and  the  food  thus 
ordered  was  charged  as  extra  commons,  or  sizings,  in  the 
quarter-bill. 

At  dinner,  every  mess  was  served  with  eight  pounds  of  meat, 
allowing  a  pound  to  each  person.  On  Monday  and  Thursday, 
the  meat  was  boiled  ;  and  these  days  were,  on  this  account, 
commonly  called  boiling-days.  On  the  other  days  the  meat  was 
roasted ;  and  these  were  accordingly  named  roasting-days.  Two 
potatoes  were  allowed  to  each  person,  which  he  was  obliged  to 
pare  for  himself.  On  boiling-days,  pudding  and  cabbage  were 
added  to  the  bill  of  fare,  and,  in  their  season,  greens,  either 
dandelion  or  the  wild  pea.  Of  bread,  a  size  was  the  usual 
quantity  for  each  person  at  dinner.  Cider  was  the  common 
beverage,  having  supplanted  beer,  which  for  many  years  was 
taken  not  only  with  dinner,  but  with  the  morning  "  bever," 
for  which  breakfast  was  now  substituted.  There  was  no 
stated  allowance  of  cider  ;  but  each  student  was  permitted  to 
drink  as  much  as  he  wanted.  It  was  brought  to  the  table  in 
pewter  quart  cans,  two  to  each  mess.  From  these  cans,  the 
students  drank,  passing  from  mouth  to  mouth,  as  was  an- 


AN  OLD-TIME   COLLEGE  PRESIDENT.         49 

ciently  done  with  the  wassail-bowl.  The  waiters  replenished 
the  cans  as  soon  as  they  were  emptied.  No  regular  supper 
was  provided ;  but  a  bowl  of  milk,  and  a  size  or  sizing  of  bread, 
procured  at  the  kitchen,  supplied  the  place  of  the  evening- 
meal. 

AN  OLD-TIME  COLLEGE  PRESIDENT. 

[Sidney  Willard,  in  his  "  Memories  of  Youth  and  Man 
hood,"  has  drawn  a  lively  picture  of  his  father,  who  was  presi 
dent  of  Harvard  College  from  1781  to  1804.]  His  physical 
frame,  to  all  appearance,  was  uncommonly  well  developed,  in 
regard  as  well  to  symmetry  as  to  strength.  In  height,  he  was 
five  feet  ten  or  eleven  inches.  His  head  and  chest  were  in 
due  proportion  to  each  other  :  the  latter  was  broad  and  capa 
cious,  and  his  limbs  well  rounded  with  their  muscular  cover 
ing.  Consequently,  in  standing  or  walking,  his  body  was 
erect,  and  his  movement  was  firm  and  graceful.  No  portrait 
of  him  was  ever  painted.  A  profile  taken  from  the  shadow  of 
his  head,  intended  for  full  size,  is  all  that  remains  of  this  kind, 
except  what  is  engraved  on  the  memory  of  his  contemporaries. 
Whenever  seen  out  of  his  house,  or  in  company,  his  head  was 
crowned  with  a  full-bottomed,  well-dressed  white  wig.  It  was 
a  great  disfigurement,  however  much  sanctioned  by  the  fashion 
of  the  times,  and  by  an  association  of  reverence  with  his  call 
ing.  I  like  best  to  remember  him  with  his  velvet  cap  in  his 
study,  as  to  the  matter  of  costume.  I  remember  him  some 
times  in  his  study  when  dressing,  without  wig  or  cap  on  his 
head  ;  and  a  noble  head  it  was,  sadly  wronged  by  its  unnatural 
outward  treatment.  To  Farnham,  the  peruke-king,  all  the 
clergy  in  Boston  and  round  about,  who  wore  wigs,  looked  up 
with  loyal  respect.  He  had  no  rival,  and  no  pretender  to  the 
crown,  within  his  realm.  Every  last  wig  that  came  from  his 
royal  hands,  or  was  renovated  thereby,  he  triumphantly  pro 
nounced  to  be  his  chef  (Tceuvre.  He  gloried  in  Pres.  Willard 
as  one  of  his  subjects. 

For  his  three-cornered  hat,  his  cocked  hat,  my  father  re 
sorted  to  Nathan  Balch,  a  very  worthy  and  respectable  man, 
sometimes  irreverently  called  Nat  Balch  ;  a  frequent  guest  of 


50  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Gov.  Hancock,  and  entertainer  of  his  other  guests,  adding 
zest  to  the  viands  and  the  vina  at  the  dinner-board  by  anec 
dotes  and  stories,  mimetric  art,  humor,  witticism,  and  song, 
drawn  from  his  inexhaustible  storehouse.  Besides  the  wig, 
and  shape  of  the  hat,  neither  of  which  was  uncommon,  before 
the  close  of  the  last  century,  among  laymen  as  well  as  clergy 
men  (except  that  laymen  who  wore  full-bottomed  wigs  usually 
wore  gray  wigs  instead  of  white),  there  was  nothing  peculiar 
in  the  dress  of  Pres.  Willard.  There  was  very  little  change 
in  the  shape  of  his  garments  from  year  to  year,  from  the  time 
of  my  early  remembrance.  The  same  thing  was  true  generally 
of  others.  Fashion  changed  but  little  from  middle  to  ad 
vanced  life.  Buckles  to  the  knee-bands  and  shoe-straps  were 
used  by  the  elders  ;  and  strings  or  ribbons,  by  the  youth.  .  .  . 

His  daily  home-life  was  very  uniform.  At  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  he  rose  from  bed,  and  at  six  prayed  at  the  college 
chapel  very  constantly  during  term-time.  In  the  winter  he 
slept  in  his  study,  and,  having  covered  up  his  coals  and  brands 
with  ashes  over  night  (for  he  used  wood  only  for  fuel),  he  had 
ample  time  in  the  morning  to  kindle  his  fire,  and  fortify  him 
self  against  the  frosts  to  be  encountered  in  his  walks  to  the 
chapel.  Soon  after  his  return,  the  family  devotions  were  held, 
followed  by  breakfast.  The  dinner-hour  was  one  o'clock.  In 
meats  and  drinks  he  was  very  temperate  :  consequently,  his 
constitution,  naturally  vigorous,  was  never  impaired  by  indul 
gence,  but,  on  the  contrary,  by  that  abstraction  of  mind,  and 
neglect  of  the  body,  to  which  men  of  study  in  all  ages  have 
been  the  most  numerous  victims.  .  .  . 

Sometimes  an  eccentric  visitor  appeared.  Master  Moody  I 
have  mentioned  ;  Pater  West,  as  he  was  often  called,  —  Sam 
uel  West,  rightfully,  —  of  Dartmouth,  a  minister  of  the  gos 
pel,  was  another.  How  he  came  by  the  first  grave  prxnomen, 
Pater,  I  am  not  able  to  say  with  certainty  ;  but  I  believe  it 
was  given  to  him  by  his  classmates  at  college  in  honor  of  his 
age  and  his  sway.  He  was  a  very  thinking  man  ;  but  his 
thoughts  were  not  always  uppermost  about  the  things  of  im 
mediate  moment.  He  was  in  Cambridge  in  1798,  and  made 


GOVERNOR   TRUMBULL.  51 

my  father's  house  his  headquarters.  He  preached  in  the 
church  of  the  first  parish,  having  exchanged,  I  believe,  with 
Dr.  Holmes.  My  father  was  very  anxious,  lest  the  singulari 
ties  for  which  he  was  very  remarkable  in  the  pulpit,  and  every 
where  else,  should  disturb  the  gravity  of  the  students,  whose 
seats  were  in  the  front-gallery  ;  and  his  anxiety  was  not  with 
out  reason.  Dr.  West  had,  I  suppose,  been  informed  of  the 
order  of  services  in  the  church,  or  read  them  in  the  blank 
leaf  of  the  hymn-book,  and  began  accordingly  with  a  short 
prayer,  and  read  a  portion  of  Scripture,  and  then  a  hymn,  which 
was  sung.  But  next  he  was  in  fault.  He  rose,  and  began  to 
name  the  text  of  his  sermon  ;  and  Mr.  John  Foxcroft  (who 
was  wont  to  utter  little  Latin  scraps  in  secular  intercouse),  now, 
without  due  reverence  for  Priscian's  head,  or  for  the  pulpit,  rose 
and  addressed  the  preacher  in  bad  Latin,  namely,  "  Oblivisti 
preces,  domine"  The  preacher  heard  a  voice,  and  it  may  be 
an  audible  smile,  so  to  speak,  in  the  auditory  ;  but  whether 
his  monitor  was  not  sufficiently  clear  in  his  enunciation,  or 
the  preacher,  whose  wig  was  seldom  rightly  adjusted,  had 
suffered  it  to  cover  his  right  ear,  the  words  were  to  him  a  dead 
letter.  His  monitor  did  not  rise  to  correct  his  Latin  ;  and  the 
preacher  proceeded  unembarrassed.  After  returning  to  the 
president's  house,  unconscious,  I  have  no  doubt,  of  any  omis 
sion  in  the  public  service,  and  prompted  by  a  little  vanity,  of 
which  he  was  not  destitute,  he  asked,  "  Well,  Mr.  President, 
how  did  I  make  out  ?  "  —  "  Very  well,"  said  the  president, 
"except  the  omission  of  the  long  prayer."  —  "Well,  I  don't 
care,"  said  the  doctor,  "  they  have  no  business  to  have  such  a 
complicated  service.  I  have  only  one  prayer  at  home." 

GOVERNOR  TRUMBULL. 

[The  individuality  of  public  men,  whether  in  the  professions, 
or  in  state  service,  is  constantly  impressed  upon  the  reader  ; 
and  it  seems  as  if  the  men  and  women  who  come  forward 
upon  the  historic  canvas  of  New  England,  as  painted  by 
their  descendants  or  visitors,  were  possessed  of  more  positive 
traits  than  appeal  to  us  in  the  highly  organized  life  of  a  later 


52  NEW  ENGLAND. 

day.  Sidney  Willard's  recollections  of  his  father  and  Pater 
West  describe  something  of  the  clerical  character  ;  and  there 
is  a  quaint  sketch  of  an  old-time  governor  of  Connecticut, 
from  the  pen  of  the  bright-minded  Marquis  de  Chastellux, 
who  travelled  through  the  country  in  the  latter  part  of  the  war 
for  independence.  His  journey  took  him  to  Hartford.] 

An  interesting  personage  was  then  at  Hartford,  and  I  went 
to  pay  him  a  visit :  this  was  Gov.  Trumbull,  governor  by  ex 
cellence,  for  he  has  been  so  these  fifteen  years,  having  been 
always  rechosen  at  the  end  of  every  two  years,  and  equally 
possessing  the  public  esteem  under  the  English  Government 
and  under  that  of  the  Congress.  He  is  seventy  years  old. 
His  whole  life  is  consecrated  to  business,  which  he  passion 
ately  loves,  whether  important  or  not ;  or  rather,  with  respect 
to  him  there  is  none  of  the  latter  description.  He  has  all  the 
simplicity  in  his  dress,  all  the  importance,  and  even  pedantry, 
becoming  the  great  magistrate  of  a  small  republic.  He 
brought  to  my  mind  the  burgomasters  of  Holland  in  the  time 
of  the  Heinsiuses  and  the  Barnevelts.  ...  I  have  already 
painted  Gov.  Trumbull  [he  writes  on  occasion  of  a  later  visit] : 
at  present  you  have  only  to  represent  to  yourself  this  little  old 
man  in  the  antique  dress  of  the  first  settlers  in  this  colony, 
approaching  a  table  surrounded  by  twenty  Hussar  officers, 
and  without  either  disconcerting  himself,  or  losing  any  thing  of 
his  formal  stiffness,  pronouncing  in  a  loud  voice  a  long  prayer 
in  the  form  of  a  benedicite.  Let  it  not  be  imagined  that  he 
excites  the  laughter  of  his  auditors.  They  are  too  well 
trained  :  you  must,  on  the  contrary,  figure  to  yourself  twenty 
amens  issuing  at  once  from  the  midst  of  forty  mustaches, 
and  you  will  have  some  idea  of  this  little  scene. 

COLONEL  JOHN  TRUMBULL. 

[The  name  of  Gov.  Trumbull  recalls  to  most  readers  the 
more  prominent  name  of  his  son,  Col.  John  Trumbull,  aide-de 
camp  to  Washington,  soldier,  but  more  especially  artist.  With 
his  later  life  we  are  not  now  concerned  ;  but  the  pictures 
which  he  has  given  us  in  his  Autobiography  are  among  the 


EARL  Y  SCHOOL-DA  YS.  5 3 

best  we  have  for  the  clearness  with  which  they  set  before  us 
the  early  life  of  a  well-born,  high-minded  young  man,  who 
had  something  of  the  divine  afflatus  of  art,  at  a  time  and  in  a 
country  when  the  afflatus  needed  to  be  pretty  strong  not  to  be 
pressed  out  by  untoward  circumstance.  It  is  impossible  to  read 
the  account  he  gives  of  his  search  for  art  in  the  inhospitable 
region  of  New  England,  without  being  aware  of  the  sincerity  of 
his  purpose,  however  we  may  estimate  the  actual  results  of  his 
search.  As  with  many  others,  the  instinct  for  art  came  early.] 

EARLY  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

My  native  place,  Lebanon,  was  long  celebrated  for  having 
the  best  school  in  New  England  (unless  that  of  Master 
Moody  in  Newburyport  might,  in  the  opinion  of  some,  have 
the  precedence).  It  was  kept  by  Nathan  Tisdale,  a  native  of 
the  place,  from  the  time  when  he  graduated  at  Harvard  to  the 
day  of  his  death,  a  period  of  more  than  thirty  years,  with  an 
assiduity  and  fidelity  of  the  most  exalted  character,  and  be 
came  so  widely  known,  that  he  had  scholars  from  the  West 
India  Islands,  Georgia,  North  and  South  Carolina,  as  well  as 
from  the  New  England  and  northern  colonies.  With  this 
exemplary  man  and  excellent  scholar,  I  soon  became  a  favor 
ite.  My  father  was  his  particular  friend ;  and  my  early  suffer 
ings,  as  well  as  my  subsequent  docility,  endeared  me  to  him. 
The  school  was  distant  from  my  father's  house  not  more 
than  three  minutes'  walk,  across  a  beautiful  green ;  so  that  I 
was  constant  in  my  attendance  ;  besides  which,  it  was  an 
excellent  rule  of  the  school  to  have  no  vacations,  in  the  long 
idleness  and  dissipation  of  which  the  labors  of  preceding 
months  might  be  half  forgotten.  Whether  my  mind,  which 
had  so  long  been  repressed  by  disease,  sprang  forward  with 
increased  energy  so  soon  as  the  pressure  upon  the  brain  was 
removed,  I  know  not :  but  I  soon  displayed  a  singular  facility 
in  acquiring  knowledge,  particularly  of  languages ;  so  that  I 
could  read  Greek  at  six  years  old,  at  which  age  I  remember 
to  have  had  a  contest  with  the  late  Rev.  Joseph  Lyman,  pastor 
of  Hatfield  in  Massachusetts,  a  boy  several  years  my  senior. 


54  NEW  ENGLAND. 

We  read  the  five  first  verses  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John.  I 
missed  not  a  word  ;  he  missed  one  :  and  I  gained  the  victory. 
I  do  not  mean  to  say,  that  at  this  time  I  possessed  much 
more  knowledge  of  the  Greek  language  than  might  be  taught 
to  a  parrot ;  but  I  knew  the  forms  of  the  letters,  the  words, 
and  their  sounds,  and  could  read  them  accurately,  although 
my  knowledge  of  their  meaning  was  very  imperfect. 

My  taste  for  drawing  began  to  dawn  early.  It  is  common 
to  talk  of  natural  genius ;  but  I  am  disposed  to  doubt  the 
existence  of  such  a  principle  in  the  human  mind  :  at  least,  in 
my  own  case,  I  can  clearly  trace  it  to  mere  imitation.  My 
two  sisters,  Faith  and  Mary,  had  completed  their  education  at 
an  excellent  school  in  Boston,  where  they  both  had  been 
taught  embroidery  ;  and  the  eldest,  Faith,  had  acquired  some 
knowledge  of  drawing,  and  had  even  painted  in  oil  two 
heads  and  a  landscape.  These  wonders  were  hung  in  my 
mother's  parlor,  and  were  among  the  first  objects  that  caught 
my  infant  eye.  I  endeavored  to  imitate  them,  and  for  several 
years  the  nicely  sanded  floors  (for  carpets  were  then  unknown 
in  Lebanon)  were  constantly  scrawled  with  my  rude  attempts 
at  drawing. 

PREPARATION  FOR  COLLEGE. 

About  this  time,  when  I  was  nine  or  ten  years  old,  my 
father's  mercantile  failure  took  place.  He  had  been  for  years 
a  successful  merchant,  and  looked  forward  to  an  old  age  of 
ease  and  affluence  ;  but  in  one  season  almost  every  vessel,  and 
all  the  property  which  he  had  upon  the  ocean,  was  swept  away, 
and  he  was  a  poor  man  at  so  late  a  period  of  life  as  left  no  hope 
of  retrieving  his  affairs.  My  eldest  brother  was  involved  in 
the  wreck  as  a  partner,  which  rendered  the  condition  of  the 
family  utterly  hopeless.  My  mother  and  sisters  were  deeply 
afflicted  ;  and  although  I  was  too  young  clearly  to  comprehend 
the  cause,  yet  sympathy  led  me,  too,  to  droop.  My  bodily 
health  was  frail,  for  the  sufferings  of  early  youth  had  left  their 
impress  on  my  constitution  ;  and  although  my  mind  was  clear, 
and  the  body  active,  it  was  never  strong.  I  therefore  seldom 
joined  my  little  schoolfellows  in  plays  or  exercises  of  an  ath- 


PREPARATION  FOR   COLLEGE.  5$ 

letic  kind  ;  for  there  I  was  almost  sure  to  be  vanquished  ;  and 
by  degrees  acquired  new  fondness  for  drawing,  in  which  I 
stood  unrivalled.  Thus  I  gradually  contracted  a  solitary 
habit,  and  after  school-hours  frequently  withdrew  to  my  own 
room  to  a  close  study  of  my  favorite  pursuit.  Such  was  my 
character  at  the  time  of  my  father's  failure  ;  and  this  added 
gloomy  feelings  to  my  love  of  solitude.  I  became  silent,  diffi 
dent,  bashful,  awkward  in  society,  and  took  refuge  in  still 
closer  application  to  my  books  and  my  drawing.  The  want  of 
pocket-money  prevented  me  from  joining  my  young  compan 
ions  in  any  of  those  little  expensive  frolics  which  often  lead 
to  future  dissipation,  and  thus  became  a  blessing ;  and  my 
good  master  Tisdale  had  the  wisdom  so  to  vary  my  studies  as 
to  render  them  rather  a  pleasure  than  a  task.  Thus  I  went 
forward  without  interruption,  and  at  the  age  of  twelve  might 
have  been  admitted  to  enter  college  ;  for  I  had  then  read 
Eutropius,  Cornelius  Nepos,  Virgil,  Cicero,  Horace,  and  Juve 
nal,  in  Latin  ;  the  Greek  Testament  and  Homer's  Iliad  in 
Greek  ;  and  was  thoroughly  versed  in  geography,  ancient  and 
modern,  in  studying  which  I  had  the  advantage  (then  rare)  of 
a  twenty-inch  globe.  I  had  also  read  with  care  Rollin's  His 
tory  of  Ancient  Nations,  also  his  History  of  the  Roman  Repub 
lic,  Mr.  Crevier's  continuation  of  the  History  of  the  Emperors, 
and  Rollin's  Arts  and  Sciences  of  the  Ancient  Nations.  In 
arithmetic  alone,  I  met  an  awful  stumbling-block.  I  became 
puzzled  by  a  sum  in  division,  where  the  divisor  consisted  of 
three  figures  :  I  could  not  comprehend  the  rule  for  ascertain 
ing  how  many  times  it  was  contained  in  the  dividend.  My 
mind  seemed  to  come  to  a  dead  stand.  My  master  would  not 
assist  me,  and  forbade  the  boys  to  do  it ;  so  that  I  well  recol 
lect  the  question  stood  on  my  slate  unsolved  nearly  three 
months,  to  my  extreme  mortification.  At  length  the  solution 
seemed  to  flash  upon  my  mind  at  once  ;  and  I  went  forward, 
without  further  let  or  hinderance,  through  the  ordinary  course 
of  fractions  (vulgar  and  decimal),  surveying,  trigonometry, 
geometry,  navigation,  &c. ;  so  that,  when  I  had  reached  the 
age  of  fifteen  and  a  half  years,  it  was  stated  by  my  master 


56  NEW  ENGLAND. 

that  he  could  teach  me  little  more,  and  that  I  was.  fully  quali 
fied  to  enter  Harvard  College  in  the  middle  of  the  third,  or 
junior  year.  This  was  approved  by  my  father,  and  proposed 
to  me. 

JOHN  SINGLETON  COPLEY. 

In  the  mean  time,  my  fondness  for  painting  had  grown  with 
my  growth  ;  and,  in  reading  of  the  arts  of  antiquity,  I  had 
become  familiar  with  the  names  of  Phidias  and  Praxiteles,  of 
Zeuxis  and  Apelles.  These  names  had  come  down  through  a 
series  of  more  than  two  thousand  years,  with  a  celebrity  and 
applause  which  accompanied  few  of  those  who  had  been  devot 
ed  to  the  more  noisy  and  turbulent  scenes  of  politics  or  war. 
The  tranquillity  of  the  arts  seemed  better  suited  to  me  than 
the  more  bustling  scenes  of  life  ;  and  I  ventured  to  remonstrate 
with  my  father,  stating  to  him  that  the  expense  of  a  college 
education  would  be  inconvenient  to  him,  and,  after  it  was 
finished,  I  should  still  have  to  study  some  profession  by  which 
to  procure  a  living :  whereas,  if  he  would  place  me  under 
the  instruction  of  Mr.  Copley  (then  living  in  Boston,  and 
whose  reputation  as  an  artist  was  deservedly  high),  the 
expense  would  probably  not  exceed  that  of  a  college  educa 
tion,  and  that,  at  the  end  of  my  time,  I  should  possess  a  pro 
fession,  and  the  means  of  supporting  myself,  perhaps  of 
assisting  the  family,  at  least  my  sisters.  This  argument 
seemed  to  me  not  bad  ;  but  my  father  had  not  the  same  ven 
eration  for  the  fine  arts  that  I  had,  and  hoped  to  see  me  a 
distinguished  member  of  one  of  the  learned  professions, 
divinity  in  preference.  I  was  overruled,  and  in  January,  1772, 
was  sent  to  Cambridge,  under  the  care  of  my  brother,  who,  in 
passing  through  Boston,  indulged  me  by  taking  me  to  see  the 
works  of  Mr.  Copley.  His  house  was  on  the  Common,  where 
Mr.  Sears's  elegant  granite  palazzo  *  now  stands.  A  mutual 
friend  of  Mr.  Copley  and  my  brother,  Mr.  James  Lovell,  went 
with  us  to  introduce  us.  We  found  Mr.  Copley  dressed  to 
receive  a  party  of  friends  at  dinner.  I  remember  his  dress 

1  Since  remodelled,  and  occupied  by  the  Somerset  Club. 


COLLEGE  LIFE.  57 

and  appearance,  —  an  elegant-looking  man,  dressed  in  a  fine 
maroon  cloth,  with  gilt  buttons.  This  was  dazzling  to  my 
unpractised  eye.  But  his  paintings,  the  first  I  had  ever  seen 
deserving  the  name,  riveted,  absorbed,  my  attention,  and 
renewed  all  my  desire  to  enter  upon  such  a  pursuit. 

COLLEGE  LIFE. 

But  my  destiny  was  fixed,  and  the  next  day  I  went  to 
Cambridge,  passed  my  examination  in  form,  and  was  readily 
admitted  to  the  junior  class,  who  were  then  in  the  middle  of 
the  third  year ;  so  that  I  had  only  to  remain  one  year  and  a 
half  in  college.  My  first  anxiety  was  to  know  the  actual 
studies  and  recitations  of  my  class  ;  and  I  soon  found  that  I 
had  no  superior  in  Latin,  that  in  Greek  there  were  only  two 
whom  I  had  to  fear  as  competitors,  — Mr.  Pearson,  who  after 
wards  became  the  professor  of  Oriental  languages,  and  Mr. 
Theodore  Parsons,  brother  of  the  late  eminent  judge,1  who 
died  a  few  years  after  we  graduated.  This  advanced  state  of 
my  acquirements  rendered  unnecessary  any  exertion  of  study 
to  maintain  my  footing  with  my  class  ;  and  I  was  in  no  small 
danger  of  dropping  into  a  course  of  idleness  and  vanity,  and 
thence,  perhaps,  into  low  company  and  base  pursuits,  when  I 
fortunately  learned  that  a  French  family,  who  had  been  re 
moved  with  the  other  inhabitants  of  Acadie,  by  the  political 
prudence  of  England,  poor  but  respectable,  were  living  in 
Cambridge,  and  had  in  some  instances  taught  the  French 
language.  I  went  immediately  to  Pere  Robichaud,  as  the 
worthy  man  was  called,  and  was  admitted  as  a  scholar.  This 
family,  besides  the  parents,  comprised  several  children  of  both 
sexes,  some  about  my  own  age.  In  such  society  I  made  good 
progress,  and  there  laid  the  foundation  of  a  knowledge  of  the 
French  language,  which  in  after-life  was  of  eminent  utility. 

In  the  mean  time,  I  searched  the  library  of  the  college  for 
works  relating  to  the  arts,  and,  among  a  few  others  of  less 
importance,  I  found  the  "Jesuit's  Prospective  made  easy.  By 

1  Theophilus  Parsons,  Chief  Justice  of  Massachusetts,  who  died  1813. 


58  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Brooke  Taylor."  This  I  studied  carefully,  and  still  possess  a 
book  into  which  I  copied  most  of  the  diagrams  of  the  work. 
I  found  also,  and  read  with  attention,  "  Hogarth's  Analysis  of 
Beauty."  The  library  contained  further  a  few  fine  engravings, 
and  a  set  of  Piranesi's  prints  of  Roman  ruins.  In  the  philo 
sophical  chamber  were  several  of  Mr.  Copley's  finest  por 
traits,  and  a  view  of  an  eruption  of  Mount  Vesuvius,  painted 
in  Italy,  which,  with  the  Piranesi,  had  been  lately  presented 
to  the  college  by  Thomas  Palmer,  Esq.,  one  of  the  alumni, 
who  had  travelled  in  Italy,  and  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  to 
know  afterwards  in  Berkeley  Square,  London. 

The  principal  college  studies  to  which  I  paid  much  atten 
tion  were  moral  and  natural  philosophy.  Dr.  Winthrop  was 
professor  of  the  latter;  and  to  his  lectures  I  listened  with 
great  attention  and  pleasure.  Electricity  was  of  very  recent 
discovery,  and  was  a  source  of  great  admiration  and  delight. 
Chemistry  as  yet  was  in  a  manner  unknown  as  a  science, 
and  formed  no  part  of  our  studies. 

At  the  same  time,  I  copied  the  painting  of  Vesuvius  twice, 
—  first  with  water-colors  on  vellum,  small;  and  afterwards  in 
oil,  the  size  of  the  original.  One  of  these  I  presented  to  Prof. 
Winthrop. 

Among  the  engravings  in  the  library  was  one  from  a  paint 
ing  by  Noel  Coypel,  —  Rebecca  at  the  Well,  surrounded  by  a 
number  of  attendants.  This  I  admired,  and  copied  in  oil,  the 
same  size  as  the  engraving.  The  forms,  expressions,  charac 
ters,  and  light  and  shadow,  were  before  me  :  the  colors  I 
managed  as  well  as  I  could  from  my  own  imagination.  This 
received  so  much  approbation  from  the  officers  and  students 
in  college,  that  I  ventured  to  show  it  to  Mr.  Copley,  and  had 
the  pleasure  to  hear  it  commended  by  him  also.  The  picture 
is  still  preserved  in  the  family.  In  July,  1773,  I  graduated 
without  applause,  for  I  was  not  a  speaker,  and  returned  to 
Lebanon. 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  WAR. 

In  the  summer  and  autumn,  of  1774,  the  angry  discussions 
between  Great  Britain  and  her  colonies  began  to  assume  a 


THE  BEGINNING   OF  THE    WAR.  59 

very  serious  tone.  As  the  low  growling  of  distant  thunder 
announces  the  approach  of  the  natural  tempest,  so  did  these 
discussions  give  evident  notice  that  a  moral  storm  was  at 
hand  ;  and  men  began  to  fear  that  the  decision  of  these 
angry  questions  must  ere  long  be  referred  to  the  ultima  ratio. 

I  caught  the  growing  enthusiasm.  The  characters  of  Brutus, 
of  Paulus  ^Emilius,  of  the  Scipios,  were  fresh  in  my  remem 
brance,  and  their  devoted  patriotism  always  before  my  eye  ; 
besides,  my  father  was  now  governor  of  the  colony,  and  a 
patriot,  of  course  surrounded  by  patriots,  to  whose  ardent  con 
versations  I  listened  daily.  It  would  have  been  strange  if  all 
this  had  failed  to  produce  its  natural  effect.  I  sought  for  mili 
tary  information,  acquired  what  knowledge  I  could,  soon  formed 
a  small  company  from  among  the  young  men  of  the  school 
and  the  village,  taught  them,  or,  more  properly,  we  taught  each 
other,  to  use  the  musket  and  to  march  ;  and  military  exercises 
and  studies  became  the  favorite  occupation  of  the  day. 

Of  these  youthful  companions,  several  became  valuable 
officers  in  the  war  which  soon  followed.  Two  brothers,  my 
very  particular  friends  and  companions,  Judah  and  Roger 
Alden,  distinguished  themselves.  Judah  commanded  a  com 
pany  with  which,  in  1777,  he  covered  the  retreat  of  a  recon 
noitring  column  in  West  Chester  County,  and  was  killed  in 
the  defence  of  a  bridge  over  the  Bronx.  Roger  rose  to  the 
rank  of  major,  and  died  lately,  postmaster  at  West  Point. 

On  the  1 9th  of  April,  1775,  the  tempest,  which  had  been 
long  preparing,  burst  at  Lexington  in  Massachusetts.  The 
blood  of  our  brethren  cried  from  the  earth  ;  and  the  cry 
was  heard  throughout  New  England.  In  Connecticut,  a  pro 
visional  military  organization -already  existed;  and  the  First 
Regiment  of  Connecticut  troops,  commanded  by  Gen.  Joseph 
Spencer,  started  into  view  as  by  magic,  and  was  on  its  march 
for  Boston  before  the  1st  of  May.  Of  this  regiment,  I  was 
adjutant.  Gen.  Spencer,  a  friend  of  my  father,  was  somewhat 
advanced  in  life,  brave  but  prudent ;  and  it  was  arranged  that 
I  should  be  a  member  of  his  family,  —  a  sort  of  aide-de-camp. 

The  regiment  reached  the  vicinity  of  Boston  early  in  May, 


6O  NEW  ENGLAND. 

and  was  stationed  at  Roxbury.  The  parade  and  alarm  post 
was  a  field  on  the  hill  between  the  meeting-house  and  the  then 
road,  in  full  view  of  the  enemy's  lines  at  the  entrance  of  Bos 
ton.  The  entire  army,  if  it  deserved  the  name,  was  but  an 
assemblage  of  brave,  enthusiastic,  undisciplined  country  lads  ; 
the  officers,  in  general,  quite  as  ignorant  of  military  life  as  the 
troops,  excepting  a  few  elderly  men,  who  had  seen  some 
irregular  service  among  the  provincials,  under  Lord  Amherst. 

THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  TROOPS. 

Our  first  occupation  was  to  secure  our  own  positions  by 
constructing  field-works  for  defence.  The  command  of  the 
Roxbury  division,  forming  properly  the  right  wing  of  the 
army,  was  intrusted  to  Gen.  Thomas  of  Massachusetts,  a 
brave  and  well-educated  man  of  fine  talents,  who  had  seen 
some  service  :  his  headquarters  were  on  the  hill,  near  the 
meeting-house. 

Nothing  of  military  importance  occurred  for  some  time. 
The  enemy  occasionally  fired  upon  our  working-parties,  when 
ever  they  approached  too  nigh  to  their  works  ;  and,  in  order 
to  familiarize  our  raw  soldiers  to  this  exposure,  a  small  reward 
was  offered  in  General  Orders,  for  every  ball  fired  by  the 
enemy,  which  should  be  picked  up,  and  brought  to  headquar 
ters.  This  soon  produced  the  intended  effect, —  a  fearless  emu 
lation  among  the  men  ;  but  it  produced,  also,  a  very  unfortu 
nate  result ;  for  when  the  soldiers  saw  a  ball,  after  having 
struck,  and  rebounded  from  the  ground  several  times  (en  rico- 
chef),  roll  sluggishly  along,  they  would  run  and  place  a  foot 
before  it,  to  stop  it,  not  aware  that  a  heavy  ball  long  retains 
sufficient  impetus  to  overcome  such  an  obstacle.  The  conse 
quence  was,  that  several  brave  lads  lost  their  feet,  which  were 
crushed  by  the  weight  of  the  rolling  shot.  The  order  was,  of 
course,  withdrawn  ;  and  they  were  cautioned  against  touching 
a  ball  until  it  was  entirely  at  rest.  One  thing  had  been  ascer 
tained  by  this  means,  —  the  caliber  of  the  enemy's  guns,  eigh 
teen  pounds.  Thirteen-inch  shells  were  also  occasionally 
fired,  some  of  which  exploded  at  first,  to  our  no  small  annoy- 


TRUMBULUS  PLAN  OF  ENEMY'S   WORKS.     6 1 

ance  and  alarm  ;  but  some  of  these  also,  being  picked  up 
(having  failed  of  igniting),  were  carried  to  headquarters,  and 
by  this  means  their  dimensions  were  also  ascertained. 

TRUMBULL'S  PLAN  OF  THE  ENEMY'S  WORKS. 

Soon  after  that  memorable  day  (June  1 7),  Gen.  Washington 
arrived,  and  assumed  the  command  of  the  army.  A  few  days 
after  his  arrival,  I  was  told  by  my  eldest  brother,  the  commis 
sary-general,  that  the  commander-in-chief  was  very  desirous 
of  obtaining  a  correct  plan  of  the  enemy's  works,  in  front  of 
our  position  on  Boston  Neck  ;  and  he  advised  me  (as  I  could 
draw)  to  attempt  to  execute  a  view  and  plan  as  a  means  of 
introducing  myself  (probably)  to  the  favorable  notice  of  the 
general.  I  took  his  advice,  and  began  the  attempt,  by  creeping 
(under  the  concealment  of  high  grass)  so  nigh  that  I  could 
ascertain  that  the  work  consisted  of  a  curtain  crossing  the 
entrance  of  the  town,  flanked  by  two  bastions,  —  one  on  the 
western,  and  the  other  on  the  eastern  side  ;  and  I  had  ascer 
tained  the  number  of  guns  mounted  on  the  eastern  (their 
caliber  was  already  known),  when  my  farther  progress  was 
rendered  unnecessary  by  the  desertion  of  one  of  the  British 
artillery-men,  who  brought  out  with  him  a  rude  plan  of  the 
entire  work.  My  drawing  was  also  shown  to  the  general ;  and 
their  correspondence  proved,  that,  as  far  as  I  had  gone,  I  was 
correct.  This  (probably)  led  to  my  future  promotion ;  for,  soon 
after,  I  was  presented  to  the  general,  and  appointed  his  second 
aide-de-camp:  the  first  was  Thomas  Mifflin  of  Philadelphia, 
who  was  afterwards  governor  of  the  State  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  president  of  Congress  in  1783,  when  Gen.  Washington 
resigned  his  commission.  Joseph  Reed  (also  of  Philadelphia) 
was  secretary ;  and  Horatio  Gates,  adjutant-general. 

The  scene  at  headquarters  was  altogether  new  and  strange 
to  me  ;  for  the  ruined  state  of  my  father's  fortune,  and  the 
retirement  in  which  he  lived  at  Lebanon,  had  prevented  my 
having  seen  much  of  elegant  society.  I  now  suddenly  found 
myself  in  the  family  of  one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  dig 
nified  men  of  the  age,  surrounded  at  his  table  by  the  principal 


62  NEW  ENGLAND. 

officers  of  the  army,  and  in  constant  intercourse  with  them  :  it 
was  further  my  duty  to  receive  company,  and  do  the  honors  of 
the  house  to  many  of  the  first  people  of  the  country  of  both 
sexes.  I  soon  felt  myself  unequal  to  the  elegant  duties  of  my 
situation,  and  was  gratified  when  Mr.  Edmund  Randolph  (after 
wards  secretary  of  state)  and  Mr.  Baylor  arrived  from  Virginia, 
and  were  named  aides-de-camp,  to  succeed  Mr.  Mifflin  and  my 
self.  Mifflin  was  made  quartermaster-general  of  the  army,  and 
I  a  major  of  brigade  at  Roxbury.  In  this  situation  I  was  at 
home  ;  for  it  was  but  the  duty  of  an  adjutant  upon  an  extended 
scale.  The  accuracy  of  my  returns  very  soon  attracted  the 
notice  of  the  adjutant-general  (Gates) ;  and  I  became  in  some 
degree  a  favorite  with  him. 

RETURN  TO  ART. 

[Col.  Trumbull,  who  had  served  as  Gen.  Gates's  deputy 
adjutant-general,  waited  impatiently  for  his  regular  commis 
sion  ;  and  when,  months  afterward,  it  was  issued  by  Con 
gress,  but  dated  three  months  later  than  the  time  of  his 
actually  taking  service,  his  pride  was  so  wounded,  that  he 
returned  it,  and  refused  all  the  efforts  of  his  friends,  who 
sought  to  bring  about  a  compromise  between  him  and  Con 
gress.  He  left  the  service,  never  to  return  except  for  a  brief 
occasion  as  volunteer ;  and  finally,  after  desultory  attempts  at 
following  his  profession  in  Boston,  set  out  for  Europe  upon  a 
commercial  speculation,  which  suddenly  collapsed  upon  the 
receipt  of  bad  news  from  America, — the  success  of  the 
British  in  the  Southern  States.] 

This  news  was  a  coup  de  grace  to  my  commercial  project ; 
for  my  funds  consisted  in  public  securities  of  Congress,  the 
value  of  which  was  annihilated  by  adversity.  The  study  of  the 
arts  remained  as  a  last  resort,  and  I  resolved  to  go  to  London, 
and  there  wait  a  possible  change.  I  therefore  remained  but  a 
short  time  in  Paris,  where  I  knew  few  except  Dr.  Franklin,  and 
his  grandson,  Temple  Franklin  ;  John  Adams,  and  his  son, 
John  Q.,  then  a  boy  at  school,  of  fourteen  ;  and  Mr.  Strange, 
the  eminent  engraver,'  and  his  lady.  As  I  was  sitting  one 


BENJAMIN  WEST.  63 

morning  with  Mrs.  Strange,  a  fashionable  old  French  lady  came 
in  to  make  her  a  visit  She  was  splendidly  dressed  ;  but  her 
face  was  very  brown  and  wrinkled,  with  a  spot  of  bright  red 
paint,  about  the  size  of  a  dollar,  on  the  centre  of  each  cheek, 
then  the  indispensable  mark  of  a  married  lady.  With  diffi 
culty  I  suppressed  the  desire  to  laugh,  which  convulsed  me. 
Mrs.  Strange  observed  it,  and,  when  her  visitor  was  gone, 
gravely  asked  me  what  so  much  amused  me.  "  My  dear 
madam,  to  see  how  very  strangely  extremes  meet.  In  my 
own  country,  I  have  often  seen  a  squaw  dressed  in  finery, 
—  old,  dusky,  wrinkled,  —  with  a  dab  of  pure  vermilion  on 
each  cheek,  and  little  thought  that  the  poor  old  savage  was 
dressed  in  the  height  of  Parisian  fashion." 

Having  obtained  from  Dr.  Franklin  a  line  of  introduction 
to  Mr.  West,  I  set  off  for  London,  travelling  through  Peronne, 
Cambray,  Lisle,  &c.,  to  Ostend,  and  there  embarked  for  Deal 
(which  was  then  the  regular  packet  communication  between 
England  and  the  Continent).  Arrived  in  London,  I  took  lodg 
ings  near  the  Adelphi,  and  sent  immediate  notice  of  my  arrival 
to  my  friend  Mr.  Temple,  whose  address  I  knew :  by  him  the 
secretary  of  state  was  informed  of  my  residence.  The  next 
morning  information  to  the  same  effect  was  lodged  at  the 
secretary's  office  by  a  committee  of  American  Loyalists,  who 
thought  they  were  doing  the  state  some  service.  But  they 
received  the  incomprehensible  rebuke,  "  You  are  late,  gentle 
men.  Mr.  Trumbull  arrived  yesterday  at  three  o'clock  ;  and  I 
knew  it  at  four.  My  eye  is  upon  him  ;  but  I  must  observe  to 
you,  that,  so  long  as  he  shall  attend  closely  to  the  object  of 
his  pursuit,  it  is  not  the  intention  of  government  that  he  shall 
be  interrupted." 

BENJAMIN  WEST. 

I  presented  the  letter  of  Dr.  Franklin  to  Mr.  West,  and, 
of  course,  was  most  kindly  received.  His  first  question  was, 
whether  I  had  brought  with  me  any  specimen  of  my  work,  by 
which  he  could  judge  of  my  talent,  and  the  progress  I  had 
made  ;  and,  when  I  answered  that  I  had  not,  he  said,  "  Then 
look  around  the  room,  and  see  if  there  is  any  thing  which  you 


64  NEW  ENGLAND. 

would  like  to  copy."  I  did  so ;  and,  from  the  many  which 
adorned  his  painting-room,  I  selected  a  beautiful  small  round 
picture  of  a  mother  and  two  children.  Mr.  West  looked 
keenly  at  me,  and  asked,  "  Do  you  know  what  you  have 
chosen?"  —  "  No,  sir."  —  "That,  Mr.  Trumbull,  is  called  the 
Madonna  della  Scdia,  the  Madonna  of  the  Chair,  one  of  the 
most  admired  works  of  Raphael.  The  selection  of  such  a  work 
is  a  good  omen.  In  an  adjoining  room  I  will  introduce  you  to 
a  young  countryman  of  ours  who  is  studying  with  me  :  he 
will  show  you  where  to  find  the  necessary  colors,  tools,  &c., 
and  you  will  make  your  copy  in  the  same  room."  Here  began 
my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Stuart,  who  was  afterwards  so 
celebrated  for  his  admirable  portraits.  With  his  assistance,  I 
prepared  my  materials,  and  proceeded  to  my  work.  When  Mr. 
West  afterwards  came  into  the  room  to  see  how  I  went  on, 
he  found  me  commencing  my  outline  without  the  usual  aid  of 
squares.  "  Do  you  expect  to  get  a  correct  outline  by  your  eye 
only  ?  "  —  "  Yes,  sir  :  at  least,  I  mean  to  try."  — "I  wish  you 
success."  His  curiosity  was  excited;  and  he  made  a  visit 
daily,  to  mark  my  progress,  but  forebore  to  offer  me  any 
advice  or  instruction.  When  the  copy  was  finished,  and  he 
had  carefully  examined  and  compared  it,  he  said,  "  Mr.  Trum 
bull,  I  have  now  no  hesitation  to  say  that  Nature  intended  you 
for  a  painter.  You  possess  the  essential  qualities  :  nothing 
more  is  necessary,  but  careful  and  assiduous  cultivation." 
With  this  stimulant,  I  devoted  myself  assiduously  to  the 
study  of  the  art,  allowing  little  time  to  make  myself  acquainted 
with  the  curiosities  and  amusements  of  the  city. 

At  the  close  of  Mr.  West's  residence  in  Italy,  in  1762,  he 
stopped  at  Parma  long  enough  to  make  a  small  copy  of  the 
celebrated  picture  by  Correggio,  called  the  St.  Jerome  of 
Parma,  which  is  universally  regarded  as  one  of  the  three  most 
perfect  works  of  art  in  existence.  I  have  since  seen  several 
copies  by  eminent  men,  — one  by  Annibal  Caracci,  in  the  col 
lection  of  the  Marquis  of  Stafford  ;  another  by  Mengs,  in  the 
possession  of  the  widow  of  the  well-known  Mr.  Webb,  at 
Bath  ;  and  in  1797  1  saw  the  original  in  the  Louvre  at  Paris, 


ARREST  AS  AN  OFFSET  TO  ANDRE.  65 

and  have  no  hesitation  to  give  it  as  my  opinion,  that  Mr. 
West's  copy  approaches  much  nearer  to  the  exquisite  deli 
cacy  of  expression  and  harmony  of  clair-obscure  of  the  origi 
nal,  than  any  other  I  have  seen.  I  cannot  compare  the  color ; 
for,  when  I  saw  the  original,  it  was  in  a  room  adjoining  the 
Gallery  of  the  Louvre,  under  the  hands  of  some  mender  of 
pictures,  who  deserves  to  be  flayed  alive  for  the  butchery 
which  he  was  inflicting  upon  this  exquisite  work.  He  had 
cleaned  the  body  of  the  infant,  and  whole  centre  of  the  picture, 
till  all  the  original  surface  color  was  taken  away,  and  nothing 
was  left  but  the  dead  coloring  of  blue-black  and  white ;  so 
that  whatever  may  be  its  present  appearance,  it  certainly  is 
no  longer  the  hand  of  Correggio,  but  of  the  cleaner.  This 
picture  early  attracted  my  attention  ;  but  the  number  of  figures, 
and  complexity  of  the  composition,  deterred  me  from  attempt 
ing  to  copy  it.  After  having  finished  my  Madonna,  I  resolved 
to  attempt  it ;  and,  with  the  approbation  of  my  master,  I  com 
menced  again  without  squares,  and  trusting  to  my  eye  alone. 
I  had  not  advanced  far,  when  an  event  occurred,  which  had 
well-nigh  put  an  end  to  my  pursuit  of  the  arts  forever. 

ARREST  AS  AN  OFFSET  TO  ANDRE. 

On  the  1 5th  of  November,  1780,  news  arrived  in  London 
of  the  treason  of  Gen.  Arnold,  and  the  death  of  Major  Andrd. 
The  Loyalists,  who  had  carefully  watched  my  conduct  from 
the  day  of  my  arrival,  now  thought  themselves  certain  of  put 
ting  an  end  to  my  unintelligible  security  and  protection.  Mr. 
Andre*  had  been  the  deputy  adjutant-general  of  the  British 
army,  and  I  a  deputy  adjutant-general  in  the  American ;  and  it 
seemed  to  them  that  I  should  make  a  perfect  pendant.  They, 
however,  took  their  measures  with  great  adroitness  and  pru 
dence  ;  and,  without  mentioning  my  name,  information  was  by 
them  lodged  at  the  office  of  the  secretary  of  state,  that  there 
was  actually  in  London  (doubtless  in  the  character  of  a  spy) 
an  officer  of  rank  of  the  rebel  army,  a  very  plausible  and  dan 
gerous  man,  Major  Tyler.  In  the  very  natural  irritation  of 
the  moment,  a  warrant  was  instantly  issued  for  his  arrest. 
5 


66  NEW  ENGLAND. 

This  warrant  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Bond  of  the 
police ;  and  the  additional  instruction  was  given  to  him  by  the 
under  secretary,  Sir  Benjamin  Thompson,  afterwards  Count 
Rumford  (himself  an  American  Loyalist),  that  "  in  the  same 
house  with  the  person  wlio  is  named  in  this  warrant,  lodges 
another  American,  who  there  are  strong  reasons  for  believing 
to  be  the  most  dangerous  man  of  the  two.  Although  his 
name  is  not  inserted  in  the  warrant,  you  will  not,  however,  fail, 
Mr.  Bond,  to  secure  Mr.  Trumbull's  person  and  papers  for 
examination,  as  well  as  Major  Tyler."  This  took  place  on 
Saturday.  On  Sunday,  Winslow  Warren  of  Plymouth,  who 
was  a  somewhat  amphibious  character,  and,  withal,  young, 
handsome,  and  giddy,  dined  at  Kensington  with  a  party  of 
Loyalist  gentlemen  from  Boston  ;  when  the  arrest  of  Mr.  Tyler 
for  high  treason,  and  his  probable  fate,  became  a  subject  of 
conversation  at  dinner.  Tyler  and  Warren,  from  similarity  of 
character,  had  become  companions  in  the  gayeties  of  London  ; 
and,  the  moment  Warren  learned  the  danger  of  his  friend,  he 
excused  himself  from  sitting  after  dinner  to  wine,  by  pretend 
ing  an  engagement  to  take  tea  with  some  ladies  at  the  east  end 
of  the  city,  and,  knowing  where  Tyler  was  engaged  to  dine, 
he  drove  with  all  haste,  found  him,  and  warned  him  of  his 
danger.  Of  course  he  did  not  return  to  his  lodgings,  but 
prudently  and  safely  made  his  escape  to  the  Continent.  In 
the  mean  time,  a  few  minutes  after  Tyler  went  out  on  Sunday 
morning,  a  party  of  the  police  were  stationed  in  an  opposite 
ale-house  to  watch  for  him.  I  knew  nothing  of  what  was 
thus  passing  around  me,  and  went  out  and  returned  several 
times  during  the  day.  In  the  evening  I  drank  tea  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Channing  of  Georgia,  and  did  not  return  home  until 
past  eleven  o'clock.  I  found  the  mistress  of  the  house  sitting 
up,  waiting  for  us.  I  asked  for  Tyler,  and  was  answered  that 
he  was  not  yet  come  in.  Soon  after,  we  were  startled  by  a 
loud  knock  at  the  door ;  and  the  servant  came  in  to  say  that 
it  was  a  well-dressed  gentleman,  who  inquired  for  Mr.  Tyler. 
"Ay,"  said  I,  "some  of  his  merry  companions,  for  another 
frolic."  Some  time  after,  the  knock  was  repeated,  and  the 


ARREST  AS  AN  OFFSET  TO  ANDRE.  6/ 

servant  announced  that  the  same  gentleman  had  inquired 
again  for  Mr.  Tyler,  and,  on  being  told  that  he  was  not  yet 
come  in,  desired  to  see  me.  On  entering  the  passage,  I  saw 
a  very  respectable-looking,  middle-aged  man,  and  requested 
him  to  walk  into  the  parlor.  He  began  with  saying,  "  I  am 
very  sorry  that  Mr.  Tyler  is  not  at  home,  as  I  have  business  of 
importance  with  him :  in  short,  sir,  I  have  a  warrant  to  arrest 
him."  I  replied,  "  that  I  had  for  some  time  been  apprehen 
sive  that  he  was  spending  more  money  than  he  could  afford." 
— "  You  misunderstand  me  :  I  have  a  warrant  to  arrest  the 
major,  not  for  debt,  but  for  high  treason  ;  and  my  orders  are, 
at  the  same  time,  to  secure  your  person  and  papers,  Mr. 
Trumbull,  for  examination."  A  thunderbolt  falling  at  my 
feet  would  not  have  been  more  astounding;  for,  conscious  of 
having  done  nothing  politically  wrong,  I  had  become  as  confi 
dent  of  safety  in  London  as  I  should  have  been  in  Lebanon. 
For  a  few  moments  I  was  perfectly  disconcerted,  and  must 
have  looked  very  like  a  guilty  man.  I  saw  in  all  its  force  the 
folly  and  the  audacity  of  having  placed  myself  at  ease  in  the 
lion's  den ;  but,  by  degrees,  I  recovered  my  self-possession, 
and  conversed  with  Mr.  Bond,  who  waited  for  the  return  of 
Mr.  Tyler  until  past  one  o'clock.  He  then  asked  for  my  papers, 
put  them  carefully  under  cover,  which  he  sealed,  and  desired 
me  also  to  seal ;  having  done  this,  he  conducted  me  to  a  lock 
up  house,  —  the  Brown  Bear  in  Drury  Lane,  opposite  to  the 
(then)  police-office.  Here  I  was  locked  into  a  room  in  which 
was  a  bed,  and  a  strong,  well-armed  officer  for  the  companion 
of  my  night's  meditations  or  rest.  The  windows,  as  well  as 
door,  were  strongly  secured  by  iron  bars  and  bolts  ;  and,  seeing 
no  possible  means  of  making  my  retreat,  I  yielded  to  my  fate, 
threw  myself  upon  the  bed,  and  endeavored  to  rest. 

At  eleven  o'clock  next  morning,  I  was  guarded  across  the 
street,  through  a  crowd  of  curious  idlers,  to  the  office,  and 
placed  in  the  presence  of  the  three  police  magistrates,  Sir 
Sampson  Wright,  Mr.  Addington,  and  another.  The  situa 
tion  was  new,  painful,  embarrassing.  The  examination  began, 
and  was  at  first  conducted  in  a  style  so  offensive  to  my 


68  NEW  ENGLAND. 

feelings,  that  it  soon  roused  me  from  my  momentary  weak 
ness  ;  and  I  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  You  appear  to  have  been 
much  more  habituated  to  the  society  of  highwaymen  and 
pickpockets  than  to  that  of  gentlemen.  I  will  put  an  end 
to  all  this  insolent  folly  by  telling  you  frankly  who  and  what 
I  am.  I  am  an  American  ;  my  name  is  Trumbull  ;  I  am  a 
son  of  him  whom  you  call  the  rebel  governor  of  Connecti 
cut  ;  I  have  served  in  the  rebel  American  army  ;  I  have  had 
the  honor  of  being  an  aide-de-camp  to  him  whom  you  call  the 
rebel  Gen.  Washington.  These  two  have  always  in  their 
power  a  greater  number  of  your  friends,  prisoners,  than  you 
have  of  theirs.  Lord  George  Germaine  knows  under  what 
circumstances  I  came  to  London,  and  what  has  been  my 
conduct  here.  I  am  entirely  in  your  power  ;  and,  after  the 
hint  which  I  have  given  you,  treat  me  as  you  please,  always 
remembering,  that  as  I  may  be  treated,  so  will  your  friends  in 
America  be  treated  by  mine."  The  moment  of  enthusiasm 
passed,  and  I  half  feared  that  I  had  said  too  much :  but  I 
soon  found  that  the  impulse  of  the  moment  was  right ;  for  I 
was  immediately,  and  ever  after,  treated  with  marked  civility, 
and  even  respect. 

Other  business  of  the  office  pressed  ;  so,  after  a  few  words 
more,  I  was  ordered,  in  custody  of  an  officer,  to  Tothill-nelds 
Bridewell,  for  safe  keeping  during  the  night,  to  be  ready  for 
a  further  examination  the  next  day.  I  had  not  entirely  re 
covered  from  the  shock  of  this  most  unexpected  event :  so  I 
drifted  with  the  stream,  without  further  struggle  against  my 
fate,  and  I  slept  that  night  in  the  same  bed  with  a  highway 
man. 

The  next  day  I  was  brought  up  to  a  second  examination 
before  the  same  magistrates.  I  had  avowed  the  crime  of 
which  I  stood  accused,  —  bearing  arms  against  the  king  ;  and 
little  else  remained  to  do,  but  to  remand  me  to  prison.  The 
clerk  was  ordered  to  make  out  my  mittimus.  I  took  the  lib 
erty  to  look  over  him,  and  found  he  was  directing  it  to  the 
keeper  of  Clerkenwell  Prison.  The  mob  of  the  preceding 
summer,  called  Lord  George  Gordon's  mob,  had,  in  their  mad- 


ARREST  AS  AN  OFFSET  TO  ANDRE.  69 

ness,  destroyed  all  the  prisons  in  London  except  this,  and,  of 
course,  it  was  filled  to  overflowing  with  every  class  of  male 
factors.  This  I  knew,  and  therefore  remonstrated  against 
being  placed  in  such  detestable  companionship.  Sir  Samp 
son  answered  with  great  civility,  and  apparent  kindness,  "  We 
must  necessarily  place  you  in  confinement,  Mr.  Trumbull, 
and,  unfortunately,  this  is  the  only  prison  within  our  jurisdic 
tion  which  remains  unburnt.  But,  if  you  will  write  a  note  to 
Lord  George  Germaine,  I  will  myself  take  it  to  his  lordship, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  but  you  will  receive  a  favorable  answer." 
I  wrote  a  few  words  ;  and  Sir  Sampson  soon  returned  with  a 
very  civil  verbal  answer  from  Lord  George,  "  expressive  of 
regret  for  what  had  happened,  as  being  entirely  unknown  to 
him  until  it  was  too  late  to  interfere  ;  that  he  was  disposed  to 
grant  any  alleviation  which  was  in  his  power ;  that,  therefore, 
I  might  make  choice  of  any  prison  in  the  kingdom,  from  the 
Tower  down,  as  the  safety  of  my  person,  not  the  infliction  of 
inconvenience  or  vexation,  was  the  only  object  of  the  govern 
ment." 

A  little  inquiry  satisfied  me  that  it  would  be  folly  to  select 
the  Tower  for  my  place  of  residence,  as  I  should  have  to  pay 
dearly  for  the  honor,  in  the  exorbitance  of  fees  ;  and  as  I 
had  been  pleased  with  the  quiet  of  Tothill-fields,  and  the 
civility  of  the  people,  I  chose  that,  and  was  remanded  to  the 
care  of  Mr.  Smith,  the  keeper  of  that  place,  who,  having  been 
butler  to  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  had  the  manners  of  a 
gentleman,  and  always  treated  me  with  civility  and  kindness. 

The  building  which  bears  the  name  of  Tothill-fields  Bride 
well  was  a  quadrangle  of  perhaps  two  hundred  feet ;  an  old 
and  irregular  building,  the  house  of  the  keeper  occupying 
one  angle,  and  part  of  a  side  ;  the  entrance,  turnkey's  room, 
tap-room,  and  some  space  for  prisoners,  and  a  small  yard, 
another  side ;  the  female  apartments  and  yard  occupy  the 
third  ;  and  the  fourth  was  little  more  than  a  high  brick  wall. 
Besides  the  yards,  a  pretty  little  garden  was  enclosed  within 
the  walls  :  all  windows  looked  upon  the  interior  of  the  square. 
Its  situation  was  behind  Buckingham  House,  towards  Pimlico. 


7O  NEW  ENGLAND. 

After  the  first  shock,  during  which  I  cared  not  where  I 
slept,  or  what  I  ate,  I  hired  from  Mr.  Smith,  the  keeper,  one 
of  the  rooms  of  his  house,  for  which  I  paid  a  guinea  a  week. 
It  was  a  parlor  on  the  ground  floor,  about  twenty  feet  square  : 
the  door  opened  upon  the  hall  of  the  house,  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  and  was  secured  by  a  strong  lock  and  bolts.  Two  win 
dows  looked  upon  the  yard,  and  were  also  firmly  secured  by 
strong  iron  bars.  The  room  was  neatly  furnished,  and  had  a 
handsome  bureau  bed.  I  received  my  breakfast  and  dinner, 
whatever  I  chose  to  order  and  pay  for,  from  the  little  public 
house,  called  the  tap.  The  prison  allowance  of  the  govern 
ment  was  a  pennyworth  of  bread,  and  a  penny  a  day  :  this 
I  gave  to  the  turnkey  for  brushing  my  hat,  clothes,  and 
shoes.  Besides  these  comforts,  I  had  the  privilege  of  walking 
in  the  garden.  Every  evening,  when  Mr.  Smith  went  to  his 
bed,  he  knocked  at  my  door,  looked  in,  saw  that  I  was  safe, 
wished  me  a  good-night,  locked  the  door,  drew  the  bolts,  put 
the  key  in  his  pocket,  and  withdrew.  In  the  morning,  when 
he  quitted  his  own  apartment,  he  unlocked  my  door,  looked  in 
to  see  that  all  was  safe,  wished  me  a  good-morning,  and  went 
his  way. 

RELEASED  THROUGH  WEST'S  INFLUENCE. 

The  moment  when  Mr.  West  heard  of  my  arrest  was  one 
of  extreme  anxiety  to  him.  His  love  for  the  land  of  his  nativi 
ty  was  no  secret ;  and  he  knew  that  the  American  Loyalists 
(at  the  head  of  whom  was  Joseph  Galloway,  once  a  member  of 
congress  from  Pennsylvania)  were  outrageous  at  the  kindness 
which  the  king  had  long  shown  to  him,  and  still  continued. 
He  dreaded,  also,  the  use  which  might  be  made,  to  his  disad 
vantage,  of  the  arrest,  for  treason,  of  a  young  American  who 
had  been,  in  a  manner,  domesticated  under  his  roof,  and  of 
whom  he  had  spoken  publicly  and  with  approbation.  He 
therefore  hurried  to  Buckingham  House,  asked  an  audience  of 
the  king,  and  was  admitted. 

Mr.  West  began  with  stating  what  had  induced  him  to  take 
the  liberty  of  this  intrusion,  —  his  anxiety  lest  the  affair  of 


RELEASED    THROUGH  WEST'S  INFLUENCE.     /I 

my  arrest  might  involve  his  own  character,  and  diminish  his 
Majesty's  kindness,  —  spoke  of  my  conduct  during  the  time 
he  had  known  me,  as  having  been  so  entirely  devoted  to  the 
study  of  my  profession  as  to  have  left  no  time  for  political 
intrigue,  &c.  The  king  listened  with  attention,  and  then  said, 
"  West,  I  have  known  you  long,  and  have  conversed  with  you 
frequently.  I  can  recollect  no  occasion  on  which  you  have 
ever  attempted  to  mislead  or  misinform  me  ;  and  for  that  rea 
son  you  have  acquired  my  entire  confidence.  I  fully  believe 
all  that  you  have  now  said,  and  assure  you  that  my  confidence 
in  you  is  not  at  all  diminished  by  this  unpleasant  occurrence. 
I  am  sorry  for  the  young  man  ;  but  he  is  in  the  hands  of  the 
law,  and  must  abide  the  result :  I  cannot  interpose.  Do  you 
know  whether  his  parents  are  living  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  him  say  that  he  has  very  lately 
received  news  of  the  death  of  his  mother :  I  believe  his 
father  is  living." 

"  I  pity  him  from  my  soul."  He  mused  a  few  moments, 
and  then  added,  "  But,  West,  go  to  Mr.  Trumbull  immedi 
ately,  and  pledge  to  him  my  royal  promise,  that,  in  the  worst 
possible  event  of  the  law,  his  life  shall  be  safe." 

This  message  was  immediately  delivered,  and  received,  as  it 
deserved  to  be,  with  profound  gratitude.  I  had  now  nothing 
more  to  apprehend  than  a  tedious  confinement ;  and  that  might 
be  softened  by  books  and  my  pencil.  I  therefore  begged  Mr. 
West  to  permit  me  to  have  his  beautiful  little  Correggio,  and 
my  tools.  I  proceeded  with  the  copy,  which  was  finished  in 
prison  during  the  winter  of  1780-81,  and  is  now  deposited  in 
the  Gallery  at  New  Haven. 

But,  with  every  alleviation,  confinement  within  four  walls 
soon  became  irksome,  and,  with  the  advice  of  some  friends 
(for  my  friends  were  permitted  freely  to  visit  me),  I  resolved 
to  endeavor  to  force  myself  to  a  legal  trial ;  for  the  tide  of 
military  affairs,  as  well  as  of  public  opinion,  began  to  run  in 
favor  of  America ;  and  it  was  believed  that  no  jury  could  be 
found  who  would  enforce  the  penalty  of  the  law.  I  therefore 
consulted  an  eminent  lawyer,  —  the  Hon.  John  Lee,  —  and 


72  NEW  ENGLAND. 

received  for  answer,  that  the  suspension  of  the  act  of  habeas 
corpus  rendered  such  a  measure  impossible,  and  that  my 
only  hope  was  by  impressing  the  minds  of  ministers  with  a 
sense  of  the  uselessness  of  severe  measures,  in  the  actual 
state  of  the  dispute,  and  thus  inducing  them  to  release  me,  as 
a  step  towards  conciliation. 

In  the  course  of  the  winter,  I  received  kind  visits  from 
many  distinguished  men,  among  whom  were  John  Lee,  lately 
attorney-general,  Charles  J.  Fox,  and  others.  Mr.  Fox  was 
very  kind.  He  recommended  a  direct  application  to  ministers, 
on  the  ground  of  impolicy,  and  added,  "  I  would  undertake  it 
myself,  if  I  thought  I  could  have  any  influence  with  them  ; 
but  such  is  the  hostility  between  us,  that  we  are  not  even  on 
speaking  terms.  Mr.  Burke  has  not  lost  all  influence ;  has 
not  thrown  away  the  scabbard,  as  I  have.  I  will  converse 
with  him,  and  desire  him  to  visit  you."  A  few  days  after,  Mr. 
Burke  came  to  see  me,  and  readily  and  kindly  undertook  the 
negotiation,  which,  after  some  unavoidable  delay,  ended  in  an 
order  of  the  king  in  council  to  admit  me  to  bail,  with  the  con 
dition  that  I  should  leave  the  kingdom  in  thirty  days,  and  not 
return  until  after  peace  should  be  restored.  Mr.  West  and 
Mr.  Copley  became  my  sureties,  and  I  was  liberated  in  the 
beginning  of  June,  after  a  close  confinement  of  seven  months. 

CONNECTICUT  AND  ATHENS. 

[After  his  release,  Trumbull  went  to  the  Continent,  where 
he  received  despatches  from  his  father,  authorizing  him  to 
negotiate  a  loan  in  Holland  for  the  State  of  Connecticut.  On 
consulting  Mr.  Adams,  who  was  engaged  in  the  same  busi 
ness  for  the  United  States,  and  met  with  apparently  insurmount 
able  difficulties,  he  abandoned  the  attempt,  and  returned  to 
America.] 

I  returned  to  Lebanon  as  soon  as  possible,  and  occupied 
myself  with  closing  all  accounts  respecting  my  unfortunate 
mercantile  experiment.  My  reflections  were  painful :  I  had 
thrown  away  two  of  the  most  precious  years  of  life,  had  en 
countered  many  dangers,  and  suffered  many  inconveniences, 


CONNECTICUT  AND  ATHENS.  f$ 

to  no  purpose.  I  was  seized  with  a  serious  illness,  which 
confined  me  to  my  bed,  and  endangered  my  life  ;  and  it  was 
autumn  before  I  had  recovered  strength  sufficient  to  attempt 
any  occupation. 

My  brother  was  engaged  in  a  contract  for  the  supply  of  the 
army.  It  was  necessary  to  have  a  perfectly  confidential  agent 
residing  with  the  army  to  superintend  the  faithful  execution 
of  the  contract  there.  He  offered  me  this  situation  ;  and,  as 
soon  as  I  had  recovered  sufficient  strength,  I  commenced  my 
duty  at  the  quarters  of  the  army,  on  the  North  River,  present 
ed  myself  to  rny  early  master  and  friend,  Gen.  Washington, 
and  was  very  kindly  received.  I  remained  at  New  Windsor 
during  the  winter  of  1782  and  1783.  Here  we  received  the  news 
of  the  signing  of  the  preliminary  articles  of  peace  ;  and  an  end 
was  thus  put  to  all  further  desultory  pursuits.  It  was  now 
necessary  to  determine  upon  a  future  occupation  for  life. 
The  gentlemen  with  whom  I  was  connected  in  the  military 
contract  proposed  a  commercial  establishment,  in  which  they 
would  furnish  funds,  information,  and  advice,  while  I  should 
execute  the  business,  and  divide  with  them  the  profits.  The 
proposal  was  fascinating;  but  I  reflected,  that,  if  I  entered 
upon  regular  commerce,  I  must  come  in  competition  with 
men  who  had  been  educated  in  the  counting-house,  and  my 
ignorance  might  often  leave  me  at  their  mercy  ;  and  therefore 
I  declined  this  offer.  My  father  again  urged  the  law,  as  the 
profession  which  in  a  republic  leads  to  all  emolument  and  dis 
tinction,  and  for  which  my  early  education  had  well  prepared 
me.  My  reply  was,  that,  so  far  as  I  understood  the  question, 
law  was  rendered  necessary  by  the  vices  of  mankind  ;  that  I 
had  already  seen  too  much  of  them,  willingly  to  devote  my 
life  to  a  profession  which  would  keep  me  perpetually  involved, 
either  in  the  defence  of  innocence  against  fraud  and  injustice, 
or  (what  was  much  more  revolting  to  an  ingenuous  mind)  to 
the  protection  of  guilt  against  just  and  merited  punishment. 
In  short,  I  pined  for  the  arts,  again  entered  into  an  elaborate 
defence  of  my  predilection,  and  again  dwelt  upon  the  honors 
paid  to  artists  in  the  glorious  days  of  Greece  and  Athens. 


74  NEW  ENGLAND. 

My  father  listened  patiently  ;  and,  when  I  had  finished,  he  com 
plimented  me  upon  the  able  manner  in  which  I  had  defended 
what  to  him  still  appeared  to  be  a  bad  cause.  "  I  had  con 
firmed  his  opinion,"  he  said,  "  that,  with  proper  study,  I  should 
make  a  respectable  lawyer.  But,"  added  he,  "you  must  give 
me  leave  to  say,  that  you  appear  to  have  overlooked,  or  for 
gotten,  one  very  important  point  in  your  case."  —  "  Pray,  sir," 
I  rejoined,  "  what  was  that  ?  "  —  "  You  appear  to  forget,  sir, 
that  Connecticut  is  not  Athens  ;  "  and,  with  this  pithy  remark, 
he  bowed  and  withdrew,  and  never  more  opened  his  lips  upon 
the  subject.  How  often  have  those  few  impressive  words 
recurred  to  my  memory !  —  "  Connecticut  is  not  Athens." 
The  decision  was  made  in  favor  of  the  arts.  I  closed  all 
other  business,  and  in  December,  1783,  embarked  at  Ports 
mouth,  N.H.,  for  London. 

A   LOST   OPPORTUNITY. 

I  arrived  in  London  in  January,  1784,  went  immediately  to 
Mr.  West,  and  was  received  most  cordially. 

My  father  had  written  a  letter  to  Mr.  Edmund  Burke, 
expressive  of  his  gratitude  for  the  kindness  shown  to  his  son 
when  in  prison,  and  commending  me  to  his  future  protection. 
This  letter  I  early  presented,  and  was  most  kindly  received. 
"  Your  father  speaks  of  painting  as  being  the  great  object  of 
your  pursuit :  do  you  not  intend  to  study  architecture  also  ?  " 
asked  Mr.  Burke.  I  replied,  "  that  I  thought  I  knew  enough 
already,  for  my  purpose  in  backgrounds,  &c."  —  "  I  do  not 
mean  that,  Mr.  Trumbull.  You  are  aware  that  architecture  is 
the  eldest  sister  ;  that  painting  and  sculpture  ire  the  youngest, 
and  subservient  to  her;  you  must  also  be  aware  that  you 
belong  to  a  young  nation,  which  will  soon  want  public  build 
ings  :  these  must  be  erected  before  the  decorations  of  paint 
ing  and  sculpture  will  be  required.  I  would,  therefore,  strongly 
advise  you  to  study  architecture  thoroughly  and  scientifically 
in  order  to  qualify  yourself  to  superintend  the  erection  of 
these  national  buildings,  —  decorate  them  also,  if  you  will." 

This  was  wise  and  kind  advice  ;  and  I  had  afterwards  suffi- 


SIR  JOSHUA   REYNOLDS  AND  BENJ.    WEST.      ?$ 

cient  evidence  of  my  own  want  of  wisdom  in  neglecting  to 
follow  it.  A  few  of  the  hours  of  evenings  which  with  all  my 
fancied  industry  were  trifled  away  would  have  sufficed  for 
the  acquisition  of  thorough  architectural  knowledge. 

SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS  AND  BENJAMIN  WEST. 

Mr.  Burke  was  the  personal  friend  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  ; 
and  when  I  mentioned  my  predilection  for  history,  and  spoke 
of  my  intention  to  study  especially  under  Mr.  West,  he  did 
not  appear  to  regard  this  preference  with  cordiality.  I  went 
on,  however,  painting  by  day  at  Mr.  West's  house,  and  in  the 
evening  drawing  at  the  academy.  Here  I  frequently  sat  by 
the  side  of  Lawrence  (afterwards  Sir  Thomas),  so  celebrated 
for  his  exquisite  portraits.  His  manner  there  was  to  finish 
elaborately  such  parts  of  the  model  before  him  as  struck  his 
taste  :  of  course,  he  rarely  had  time  to  work  up  the  other  parts 
of  his  figure  with  equal  care  ;  and  the  whole  was  not  unfre- 
quently  out  of  drawing.  The  consequence  of  this  bad  habit 
of  study  may  often  be  traced  in  his  paintings. 

In  the  early  part  of  my  studies,  in  1784,  my  friend  Col. 
Wadsworth,  and  his  son,  were  in  London  ;  and  I  was  desired 
to  paint  their  portraits.  I  attempted  it, —  the  father  dressed 
in  gray  cloth,  sitting,  the  son  leaning  on  his  shoulder,  — small, 
whole-length  figures.  This  picture  still  exists,  in  possession 
of  Mrs.  Terry  of  Hartford,  the  daughter  of  the  former,  and 
sister  of  the  latter,  of  these  two  gentlemen,  and  is,  in  truth, 
bad  enough.  I  had  the  vanity,  however,  to  take  it  to  show  to 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  The  moment  he  saw  it,  he  said  in  a 
quick,  sharp  tone,  "  That  coat  is  bad,  sir,  very  bad.  It  is  not 
cloth  :  it  is  tin,  bent  tin."  The  criticism  was  but  too  true, 
but  its  severity  wounded  my  pride  ;  and  I  answered  (taking  up 
the  picture),  "  I  did  not  bring  this  thing  to  you,  Sir  Joshua, 
merely  to  be  told  that  it  is  bad  :  I  was  conscious  of  that.  And 
how  could  it  be  otherwise,  considering  the  short  time  I  have 
studied  ?  I  had  a  hope,  sir,  that  you  would  kindly  have  pointed 
out  to  me  how  to  correct  my  errors."  I  bowed,  and  withdrew, 
and  was  cautious  not  again  to  expose  my  imperfect  works  to 
the  criticism  of  Sir  Joshua. 


76  NEW  ENGLAND. 

In  the  summer  of  1785,  I  finished  for  Mr.  West  a  copy  of 
his  glorious  picture  of  the  battle  of  La  Hogue,  on  cloth,  a  few 
inches  larger  on  every  side  than  the  original.  This  work  was 
of  inestimable  importance  to  me  ;  and  soon  after,  I  composed 
and  painted  the  picture  of  "  Priam  returning  to  his  Family 
with  the  Dead  Body  of  Hector,"  which  is  now  in  the  Athenaeum 
at  Boston. 

In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  I  was  invited  by  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Preston  of  Chevening,  in  Kent,  to  pass  a  week  at  his 
house,  in  company  with  Mr.  West's  eldest  son.  The  library 
of  Mr.  Preston  (which,  at  his  death,  he  bequeathed  to  the 
Library  of  Philadelphia,  where  it  now  is)  was  rich  in  works 
relating  to  the  arts  ;  and  among  others  were  the  Trajan,  Anto- 
nine,  and  other  columns,  the  triumphal  arches,  bass-reliefs, 
&c.,  of  Rome  :  these  I  studied  attentively.  Here,  also,  I  made 
my  first  attempt  at  the  composition  of  a  military  scene,  taken 
from  the  war  of  the  Revolution  :  it  was  a  small  sketch  in 
Indian  ink,  on  paper,  of  the  death  of  Gen.  Frazer  at  Behmus's 
Heights.  And  here  I  was  introduced  to  the  learned  and 
excellent  Earl  and  Countess  of  Stanhope. 

Upon  my  return  to  town,  I  resumed  my  studies  with  Mr. 
West  and  at  the  academy  with  ardor,  and  now  began  to 
meditate  seriously  the  subjects  of  national  history,  of  events 
of  the  Revolution,  which  have  since  been  the  great  objects  of 
my  professional  life.  The  death  of  Gen.  Warren  at  the  battle 
of  Bunker  Hill,  and  of  Gen.  Montgomery  in  the  attack  on 
Quebec,  were  first  decided  upon.  These  were  the  earliest 
important  events  in  point  of  time ;  and  I  not  only  regarded 
them  as  highly  interesting  passages  of  history,  but  felt,  that, 
in  painting  them,  I  should  be  paying  a  just  tribute  of  gratitude 
to  the  memory  of  eminent  men  who  had  given  their  lives  for 
their  country.  These  pictures  (which  are  now  in  the  Gallery 
at  New  Haven)  were  both  painted  in  the  room  of  Mr.  West ; 
and,  when  the  Bunker  Hill  was  pretty  far  advanced,  he  said 
to  me  one  day,  "  Trumbull,  will  you  dine  with  me  to-morrow  ? 
I  have  invited  some  of  our  brother-artists,  and  wish  you  to 
be  of  the  party."  He  received  his  friends  in  his  painting- 


PICTURES  OF  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION.      7/ 

room,  where,  by  his  direction,  my  picture  was  standing  in  an 
advantageous  light.  Among  the  guests  was  Sir  Joshua  Rey 
nolds  ;  and,  when  he  entered  the  room,  he  immediately  ran  up 
to  my  picture.  "  Why,  West,  what  have  you  got  here  ?  This 
is  better  colored  than  your  works  are  generally."  —  "Sir 
Joshua  "  (was  the  reply),  "you  mistake.  That  is  not  mine: 
it  is  the  work  of  this  young  gentleman,  Mr.  Trumbull.  Permit 
me  to  introduce  him  to  you."  Sir  Joshua  was  at  least  as  much 
disconcerted  as  I  had  been  by  the  bent  tin.  The  account 
between  us  was  fairly  balanced. 

PICTURES  OF  THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION. 

Mr.  West  witnessed  the  progress  of  these  two  pictures  with 
great  interest,  and  strongly  encouraged  me  to  persevere  in  the 
work  of  the  history  of  the  American  Revolution,  which  I  had 
thus  commenced,  and  recommended  to  me  that  I  should  have 
the  series  engraved,  by  which  means,  not  only  would  the 
knowledge  of  them,  and  of  my  talent,  be  more  widely  diffused, 
but  also,  in  small  sums  from  many  purchasers,  I  should  prob 
ably  receive  a  more  adequate  compensation  for  my  labor  than 
I  could  hope  from  the  mere  sale  of  the  paintings,  even  at 
munificent  prices.  He  proceeded  to  detail  to  me  a  history  of 
his  own  method,  and  of  his  success  in  the  publication  of  the 
engravings  from  his  history  of  England,  and  explained  to  me, 
with  the  kindness  of  a  father,  all  the  intricacies  of  such  an 
enterprise,  —  the  choice  of  engravers,  printers,  publisher,  &c. 

My  only  objection  to  this  was,  that  the  necessary  superin 
tendence  would  require  more  time  and  attention  than  I  was 
willing  to  spare  from  the  direct  pursuit  of  my  studies.  I 
was  conscious  of  having  entered  upon  the  profession  at  too 
late  an  hour,  and  feared  to  divert  my  mind  from  the  unre- 
mitted  course  of  study  which  I  had  so  successfully  pursued 
during  the  last  two  or  three  years.  This  objection  was  re 
moved.  Mr.  West  was  well  acquainted  with  an  Italian  artist, 
by  the  name  of  Antonio  di  Poggi,  of  very  superior  talents 
as  a  draughtsman,  who  had  recently  commenced  the  busi 
ness  of  publishing.  He  suggested  that  Mr.  Poggi  might  be 


78  NEW  ENGLAND. 

advantageously  taken  into  connection  as  the  publisher,  for 
which  his  great  precision  and  elegance  of  drawing  peculiarly 
qualified  him.  After  some  reflection,  I  determined  to  pursue 
the  course  thus  pointed  out  to  me.  I  entered  into  an  agree 
ment  with  Mr.  Poggi  for  the  publication  of  the  two  paintings 
now  in  hand  ;  and,  while  he  sought  for  engravers,  I  continued 
to  work  upon  the  pictures.  He  soon  found  that  there  was 
not,  at  the  time,  a  single  engraver  in  England,  disengaged,  of 
sufficient  talent  to  be  safely  employed  in  a  work  of  the  first- 
class,  as  we  meant  this  to  be  :  he  therefore  soon  went  to  the 
Continent  in  pursuit  of  this,  in  connection  with  his  other 
affairs.  When  the  two  pictures  were  finished,  I  took  them 
with  me,  and  joined  him  at  Paris,  with  the  great  object  of 
finding  proper  engravers. 

On  this  occasion  Mr.  Adams  (minister  of  the  United  States 
in  London)  and  other  friends  gave  me  letters  of  introduction 
to  a  number  of  important  persons  in  Paris,  from  which  I 
entertained  hopes  cf  a  pleasant  reception  ;  and  Mr.  Vander 
Gucht,  a  dealer  in  pictures  in  London,  requested  me  to  de 
liver  a  letter  to  Mr.  Le  Brim,  his  correspondent  in  Paris. 
From  this  I  expected  nothing,  as  I  had  little  acquaintance 
with  Mr.  Vander  Gucht,  and  supposed  it  merely  a  letter  of 
business.  It  happened,  however,  that,  when  I  reached  Paris, 
every  person  to  whom  the  letters  of  Mr.  Adams  and  other 
friends  were  addressed,  was  in  the  country,  and  the  letters,  of 
course,  useless  ;  while  that  to  Mr.  Le  Brun,  aided  by  the  sight 
of  my  pictures,  made  me  known  to  all  the  principal  artists 
and  connoisseurs  in  Paris. 

A  BANKER  FOR  THE  ARTIST. 

In  May,  1777,  immediately  after  my  resignation,  my  military 
accounts  were  audited  and  settled  at  Albany,  by  the  proper 
accounting  officer,  John  Carter.  This  gentleman,  who  soon 
after  married  Angelica,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Gen.  Schuyler, 
resided,  in  1778  and  1779,  in  Boston,  where  I  was  studying ; 
and  the  acquaintance  which  commenced  at  Albany  was  con 
tinued.  On  my  return  from  Europe,  in  1782,  he  was  one  of 


A  BANKER  FOR   THE  ARTIST.  79 

the  contractors  for  the  supply  of  the  American  and  French 
armies,  in  company  with  my  friend  Col.  Wadsworth  of  Hart 
ford.  After  the  preliminaries  of  peace  were  signed,  these 
gentlemen  proposed  the  commercial  connection,  which  I  de 
clined  ;  and,  when  I  resolved  to  return  to  London  for  the 
purpose  of  studying  the  arts,  I  purchased  from  Mr.  Carter  a 
bill  of  exchange  upon  a  banking-house  in  London,  with  the 
full  amount  of  all  my  disposable  means,  which  were  small 
enough  to  begin  such  a  course  with. 

In  London,  1784,  my  acquaintance  with  this  gentleman  was 
renewed,  under  the  name  of  John  Barker  Church  (Carter  had 
been  but  a  nom  de  guerre\  where  he  lived  in  great  elegance,  a 
member  of  parliament,  &c. ;  and  although  I  was  now  but  a 
poor  student  of  painting,  and  he  rich,  honored,  and  associated 
with  the  great,  Mr.  Church  continued  to  treat  me  on  the  foot 
ing  of  equality ;  and  I  frequently  dined  at  his  table  with  dis 
tinguished  men,  such  as  Sheridan,  &c. 

In  1786  Mr.  Church  called  upon  me  one  morning  very 
early,  and  said  with  a  little  hesitation,  "  I  am  glad  to  find  you 
at  home  and  alone,  Trumbull.  I  wish  to  ask  you  a  question, 
at  which  I  hope  you  will  not  take  offence."  — • "  Certainly,  my 
friend,  you  can  say  nothing  at  which  I  can  be  offended."  — 
"  I  wish  to  know,  then,  how  your  money  holds  out."  —  "  Almost 
exhausted."  —  "I  should  think  so  :  I  cannot  comprehend 
how  you  have  made  it  last  so  long.  Now,  do  not  regard  this  as 
an  inquiry  of  silly  curiosity.  I  hear  very  favorable  accounts 
of  your  industry  and  probable  success,  and  was  afraid  that 
the  want  of  money  might  oblige  you  either  to  relax  your 
studies,  or  to  ask  pecuniary  favors  from  strangers.  My  real 
business,  therefore,  is  to  ask  that  you  will  consider  me  as 
your  banker,  and  that  whenever  you  may  have  occasion  for 
fifty,  one  hundred,  or  five  hundred  pounds,  you  will  go  to  no 
one  else,  but  apply  to  me  ;  and  you  shall  always  have  it,  on 
your  personal  security.  I  shall  ask  no  guaranty  or  indorser; 
your  simple  receipt  only,  and  five  per  cent  interest." 

Instances  of  patronage  like  this  to  young  men  studying  the 
fine  arts,  I  presume  are  uncommon,  and  deserve  to  be  grate- 


8O  NEW  ENGLAND. 

fully  remembered.  By  reference  to  my  accounts  at  that  time, 
I  find  that  I  availed  myself  of  my  friend's  singular  kindness 
to  a  considerable  amount,  and  for  several  years  ;  and  when 
the  account  was  closed  by  my  final  payment  of  the  balance 
due  on  the  5th  of  March,  1 797,  I  made  an  entry,  of  which  the 
following  is  a  copy  :  "  The  kindness  of  Mr.  Church,  in  ad 
vancing  me  at  times  when  my  prospects  were  not  the  most 
promising,  and  on  my  personal  security  merely,  the  sums 
which  form  the  above  account,  will  forever  deserve  my  most 
sincere  acknowledgments.  Without  such  aid  my  subsequent 
success  would  have  been  checked  by  pecuniary  embarrass 
ments.  J.  T." 

MRS.  WRIGHT. 

[We  take  our  leave  of  Trumbull  at  this  point,  and,  by  a 
somewhat  ungallant  transition,  pass  to  the  reminiscences  of 
Elkanah  Watson  respecting  another  branch  of  the  fine  arts. 
John  Adams,  in  one  of  his  letters,  speaks  of  visiting  in  Phila 
delphia  the  rare  works  of  Mrs.  Wells,  sister  of  the  famous 
Mrs.  Wright.  Mrs.  Wright  enjoyed  a  still  greater  renown  in 
England  for  her  figures,  which  seem  to  have  been  the  prede 
cessors  of  Madame  Tussaud's  wax-works.  Elkanah  Watson 
met  the  lady  in  Paris  in  1781.] 

I  came  oddly  in  contact  with  the  eccentric  Mrs.  Wright,  on 
my  arrival  at  Paris,  from  Nantes.  Giving  orders,  from  the 
balcony  of  the  Hotel  d'York,  to  my  English  servant,  I  was 
assailed  by  a  powerful  female  voice  -crying  out  from  the 
upper  story,  "  Who  are  you  ?  an  American  I  hope  !  "  —  "  Yes, 
madam,"  I  replied.  "And  who  are  you?"  In  two  minutes, 
she  came  blustering  down  stairs,  with  the  familiarity  of  an  old 
acquaintance.  We  soon  were  on  the  most  excellent  terms.  I 
discovered  that  she  was  in  the  habit  of  daily  intercourse  with 
Franklin,  and  was  visited  by  all  the  respectable  Americans  in 
Paris.  She  was  a  native  of  New  Jersey,  and  by  profession  a 
moulder  of  wax  figures.  The  wild  flights  of  her  powerful  mind 
stamped  originality  on  all  her  acts  and  language.  She  was  a 
tall  and  athletic  figure,  and  walked  with  a  firm,  bold  step,  as 


MRS.    WRIGHT.  8 1 

erect  as  an  Indian.  Her  complexion  was  somewhat  sallow; 
her  cheek-bones,  high  ;  her  face,  furrowed  ;  and  her  olive  eyes 
keen,  piercing,  and  expressive.  Her  sharp  glance  was  appall 
ing:  it  had  almost  the  wildness  of  a  maniac's.  The  vigor 
and  originality  of  her  conversation  corresponded  with  her 
manners  and  appearance.  She  would  utter  language,  in  her 
incessant  volubility,  as  if  unconscious  to  whom  directed,  that 
would  put  her  hearers  to  the  blush.  She  apparently  pos 
sessed  the  utmost  simplicity  of  heart  and  character. 

With  a  head  of  wax  upon  her  lap,  she  would  mould  the 
most  accurate  likenesses  by  the  mere  force  of  a  retentive 
recollection  of  the  traits  and  lines  of  the  countenance  :  she 
would  form  her  likenesses  by  manipulating  the  wax  with  her 
thumb  and  finger.  Whilst  thus  engaged,  her  strong  mind 
poured  forth  an  uninterrupted  torrent  of  wild  thought,  and 
anecdotes  and  reminiscences  of  men  and  events.  She  went 
to  London  about  the  year  1767,  near  the  period  of  Franklin's 
appearance  there  as  the  agent  of  Pennsylvania.  The  pecu 
liarity  of  her  character,  and  the  excellence  of  her  wax  figures, 
made  her  rooms  in  Pall  Mall  a  fashionable  lounging-place  for 
the  nobility  and  distinguished  men  of  England.  Here  her 
deep  penetration  and  sagacity,  cloaked  by  her  apparent  sim 
plicity  of  purpose,  enabled  her  to  gather  many  facts  and 
secrets  important  to  "dear  America,"  her  uniform  expres 
sion  in  reference  to  her  native  land,  which  she  dearly  loved. 

She  was  a  genuine  Republican,  and  ardent  Whig.  The 
king  and  queen  often  visited  her  rooms  :  they  would  induce 
her  to  work  upon  her  heads,  regardless  of  their  presence. 
She  would  often,  as  if  forgetting  herself,  address  them  as 
George  and  Charlotte.  This  fact  she  often  mentioned  to  me 
herself.  Whilst  in  England  she  communicated  much  impor 
tant  information  to  Franklin,  and  remained  in  London  until 
'75  or  '76,  engaged  in  that  kind  of  intercourse  with  him  and 
the  American  Government  by  which  she  was  placed  in  posi 
tions  of  extreme  hazard. 

I  saw  her  frequently  in  Paris  in  '81,  and  in  various  parts 
of  England  from  '82  to  '84.  Her  letters  followed  me  in  my 
6 


82  NEW  ENGLAND. 

travels  through  Europe.  I  had  assisted  her  at  Paris,  had 
extended  aid  to  her  son  at  Nantes,  and  had  given  him  a  free 
passage  in  one  of  our  ships  to  America.  Her  gratitude  was 
unbounded.  This  son  was  a  painter  and  artist  of  some  emi 
nence,  and  in  1784  took  a  model  of  Washington's  head  in 
plaster.  I  heard  from  Washington  himself  an  amusing  anec 
dote  connected  with  this  bust. 

In  January,  1785,  I  enjoyed  the  inestimable  privilege  of  a 
visit  under  his  roof,  in  the  absence  of  all  visitors.  Among 
the  many  interesting  subjects  which  engaged  our  conversa 
tion  in  a  long  winter  evening  (the  most  valuable  of  my  life), 
in  which  his  dignified  lady  and  Miss  Custis  united,  he  amused 
us  with  relating  the  incident  of  the  taking  of  this  model. 
"  Wright  came  to  Mount  Vernon,"  the  general  remarked, 
"  with  the  singular  request,  that  I  should  permit  him  to  take 
a  model  of  my  face  in  plaster-of-Paris,  to  which  I  consented 
with  some  reluctance.  He  oiled  my  features  over  ;  and  pla 
cing  me  flat  upon  my  back,  upon  a  cot,  proceeded  to  daub  my 
face  with  the  plaster.  Whilst  in  this  ludicrous  attitude,  Mrs. 
Washington  entered  the  room,  and,  seeing  my  face  thus  over 
spread  with  the  plaster,  involuntarily  exclaimed.  Her  cry 
excited  in  me  a  disposition  to  smile,  which  gave  my  mouth 
a  slight  twist,  or  compression  of  the  lips,  that  is  now  observa 
ble  in  the  busts  which  Wright  afterward  made."  These  are 
nearly  the  words  of  Washington. 

Some  time  after  my  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Wright  com 
menced,  she  informed  me  that  an  eminent  female  chemist  of 
Paris  had  written  her  a  note,  saying  that  she  would  make  her 
a  visit  at  twelve  o'clock  the  next  day,  and  announced,  also, 
that  she  could  not  speak  English.  Mrs  Wright  desired  me 
to  act  as  interpreter.  At  the  appointed  hour,  the  thundering 
of  a  carriage  in  the  courtyard  announced  the  arrival  of  the 
French  lady.  She  entered  with  much  grace,  in  which  Mrs. 
Wright  was  no  match  for  her.  She  was  old,  with  a  sharp 
nose,  and  with  broad  patches  of  vermilion  spread  over  the  deep 
furrows  of  her  cheeks.  I  was  placed  in  a  chair  between  the 
two  originals.  Their  tongues  flew  with  velocity,  — the  one  in 


MRS.    WRIGHT  AND  FRANKLIN'S  HEAD.      83 

English,  and  the  other  in  French,  and  neither  understanding 
a  word  the  other  uttered.  I  saw  no  possibility  of  interpreting 
two  such  volleys  of  words,  and  at  length  abruptly  commanded 
silence  for  a  moment.  I  asked  each,  "  Do  you  understand  ?  " 
"  Not  a  word,"  said  Mrs.  Wright.  "  N'importe,"  replied  the 
chemist,  bounding  from  her  chair,  in  the  midst  of  the  floor ; 
and,  dropping  a  low  courtesy,  she  was  off.  "  What  an  old 
painted  fool!"  said  Mrs.  Wright  in  anger.  It  was  evident 
that  this  visit  was  not  intended  for  an  interchange  of  senti 
ment,  but  a  mere  act  of  civility,  a  call. 

MRS.  WRIGHT  AND  FRANKLIN'S  HEAD. 

I  employed  Mrs.  Wright  to  make  the  head  of  Franklin, 
which  was  often  the  source  of  much  amusement  to  me. 
After  it  was  completed,  we  both  were  invited  to  dine  with 
Franklin  ;  and  I  conveyed  her  to  Passy  in  my  carriage,  she 
bearing  the  head  upon  her  lap.  No  sooner  in  presence  of 
the  doctor  than  she  had  placed  one  head  by  the  side  of  the 
other.  "  There,"  she  exclaimed,  "  are  twin-brothers."  The 
likeness  was  truly  admirable  ;  and  at  the  suggestion  of  Mrs. 
Wright,  to  give  it  more  effect,  Franklin  sent  me  a  suit  of  silk 
clothes  which  he  wore  in  1778.  Many  years  afterward  the 
head  was  broken  in  Albany  ;  and  the  clothes  I  presented  to 
the  Historical  Society  of  Massachusetts. 

An  adventure  occurred  to  Mrs.  Wright,  in  connection  with 
this  head,  ludicrous  in  the  highest  degree ;  but,  although 
almost  incredible,  it  is  literally  true.  After  the  head  had  been 
modelled,  she  walked  out  to  Passy,  carrying  it  in  a  napkin,  in 
order  to  compare  it  with  the  original.  In  returning  in  the 
evening,  she  was  stopped  at  the  barrier,  to  be  searched  for 
contraband  goods  ;  but,  as  her  mind  was  as  free  as  her  native 
American  air,  she  knew  no  restraint,  nor  the  reason  why 
she  was  detained.  She  resisted  the  attempt  to  examine  her 
bundle,  and  broke  out  in  the  rage  of  a  fury.  The  officers  were 
amazed,  as  no  explanation,  in  the  absence  of  an  interpreter, 
could  take  place.  She  was  compelled,  however,  to  yield  to 
power.  The  bundle  was  opened,  and,  to  the  astonishment 


84  NEW  ENGLAND. 

of  the  officials,  exhibited  the  head  of  a  dead  man,  as  appeared 
to  them  in  the  obscurity  of  the  night.  They  closed  the 
bundle  without  further  examination,  believing,  as  they  after 
ward  assured  me,  that  she  was  an  escaped  maniac,  who  had 
committed  murder,  and  was  about  concealing  the  head  of  her 
victim. 

They  were  determined  to  convey  her  to  the  police-station, 
when  she  made  them  comprehend  her  entreaties  to  be  taken 
to  the  Hotel  d'York.  I  was  in  my  room  ;  and  hearing  in  the 
passage  a  great  uproar,  and  Mrs.  Wright's  voice  pitched  upon 
a  higher  key  than  usual,  I  rushed  out,  and  found  her  in  a 
terrible  rage,  her  fine  eye  flashing.  I  thrust  myself  between 
her  and  the  officers,  exclaiming,  "Ah,  mon  Dieu !  qu'est  ce 
qu'il  y-a  ?  "  An  explanation  ensued.  All  except  Mrs.  Wright 
were  highly  amused  at  the  singularity  and  absurdity  of  the 
affair. 

The  head  and  clothes  I  transmitted  to  Nantes ;  and  they 
were  the  instruments  of  many  frolics  not  inappropriate  to  my 
youth  ;  but  perhaps  it  is  hardly  safe  to  advert  to  them  in  my 
age.  A  few  I  will  venture  to  relate.  On  my  arrival  at 
Nantes,  I  caused  the  head  to  be  properly  adjusted  to  the 
dress,  which  was  arranged  in  natural  shape  and  dimensions. 
I  had  the  figure  placed  in  the  corner  of  a  large  room,  near  a 
closet,  and  behind  a  table.  Before  it,  I  laid  an  open  atlas,  the 
arm  resting  upon  the  table,  and  mathematical  instruments 
strewn  upon  it.  A  handkerchief  was  thrown  over  the  arm- 
stumps  ;  and  wires  were  extended  to  the  closet,  by  which 
means  the  body  could  be  elevated  or  depressed,  and  placed  in 
various  positions.  Thus  arranged,  some  ladies  and  gentlemen 
were  invited  to  pay  their  respects  to  Dr.  Franklin  by  candle 
light.  For  a  moment  they  were  completely  deceived  ;  and  all 
profoundly  bowed  and  courtesied,  which  was  reciprocated  by 
the  figure.  Not  a  word  being  uttered,  the  trick  was  soon 
revealed. 

A  report  soon  circulated,  that  Dr.  Franklin  was  at  Mons. 
Watson's.  At  eleven  o'clock  the  next  morning,  the  mayor 
of  Nantes  came,  in  full  dress,  to  call  on  the  renowned  phi- 


MAS.    WRIGPIT  AND  FRANKLIN'S  HEAD.       85 

losopher.  Cossoul,  my  worthy  partner,  being  acquainted  with 
the  mayor,  favored  the  joke  for  a  moment,  after  their  mutual 
salutations.  Others  came  in  ;  and  all  were  disposed  to  gull 
their  friends  in  the  same  manner. 

The  most  amusing  of  all  the  incidents  connected  with  this 
head  occurred  in  London,  whither  I  sent  it  after  the  peace  of 
'83,  when  I  had  established  a  bachelor's  hall  in  that  city. 
I  placed  the  figure,  in  full  dress,  with  the  head  leaning  out  of 
the  window,  apparently  gazing  up  and  down  the  square. 
Franklin  had  formerly  been  well  known  in  that  part  of  the 
city,  and  was  at  once  recognized.  Observing  a  collection  of 
people  gathering  at  another  window,  looking  at  him,  I  ordered 
him  down. 

The  morning  papers  announced  the  arrival  of  Dr.  Frank 
lin,  at  an  American  merchant's  in  Belleter  Square  ;  and  I 
found  it  necessary  to  contradict  the  report.  In  the  interval, 
three  Boston  gentlemen,  who  were  in  the  city,  expressed  a 
wish  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  doctor.  I  desired  them  to 
call  in  the  evening,  and  bring  their  letters  of  introduction, 
which  they  had  informed  me  they  bore,  expecting  to  see  him 
at  Paris.  I  concerted  measures  with  a  friend  to  carry  the 
harmless  deception  to  the  utmost  extent  on  this  occasion. 
Before  entering,  I  apprised  them  that  he  was  deeply  engaged 
in  examining  maps  and  papers  ;  and  I  begged  that  they  would 
not  be  disturbed  at  any  apparent  inattention.  Thus  prepared, 
I  conducted  them  into  a  spacious  room.  Franklin  was  seated 
at  the  extremity,  with  his  atlas,  and  my  friend  at  the  wires.  I 
advanced  in  succession  with  each,  half  across  the  room,  and 
introduced  him  by  name.  Franklin  raised  his  head,  bowed, 
and  resumed  his  attention  to  the  atlas.  I  then  retired,  and 
seated  them  at  the  farther  side  of  the  room. 

They  spoke  to  me  in  whispers.  "  What  a  venerable 
figure  !  "  exclaims  one.  "  Why  don't  he  speak  ?  "  says  an 
other.  "  He  is  doubtless  in  a  revery,"  I  remarked,  "  and  has 
forgotten  the  presence  of  his  company  :  his  great  age  must 
be  his  apology.  Get  your  letters,  and  go  up  again  with  me  to 
him."  When  near  the  table,  I  said,  "  Mr.  B ,  sir,  from 


86  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Boston."     The   head   was    raised.     "A  letter,"  says    B , 

"  from  Dr.  Cooper."     I  could  go  no  further.     The  scene  was 

too  ludicrous.     As   B held  out  the  letter,    I  struck  the 

figure  smartly,  exclaiming,  "  Why  don't  you  receive  the  letter 
like  a  gentleman  ?  "  They  all  were  petrified  with  astonish 
ment  ;  but  B never  forgave  me  the  joke. 

AN  EVENING  WITH  FRANKLIN. 

[A  veritable  interview  with  Dr.  Franklin  is  described  by  the 
same  writer  at  a  later  date.] 

Soon  after  my  return  to  Paris,  I  dined,  and  spent  the 
evening,  with  the  immortal  Franklin.  Arriving  at  an  early 
hour,  I  discovered  the  philosopher  in  a  distant  room,  reading, 
in  the  exact  posture  in~  which  he  is  represented  by  an  admira 
ble  engraving  from  his  portrait ;  his  left  arm  resting  upon  the 
table,  and  his  chin  supported  by  the  thumb  of  his  right  hand. 
His  mingling  in  the  most  refined  and  exalted  society  of  both 
hemispheres  had  communicated  to  his  manners  a  blandness 
and  urbanity,  well  sustained  by  his  native  grace  and  elegance 
of  deportment.  His  venerable  locks  waving  over  his  shoul 
ders,  and  the  dignity  of  his  personal  appearance,  commanded 
reverence  and  respect ;  and  yet  his  manners  were  so  pleasant 
and  fascinating,  that  one  felt  at  ease,  and  unrestrained,  in  his 
presence.  He  inquired  whether  I  knew  that  he  was  a  musi 
cian  ;  and  he  conducted  me  across  the  room,  to  an  instru 
ment  of  his  own  invention,  which  he  called  the  Armonica. 
The  music  was  produced  by  a  peculiar  combination  of  hemi 
spherical  glasses.  At  my  solicitation,  he  played  upon  it,  and 
performed  some  Scotch  pastorales  with  great  effect.  The 
exhibition  was  truly  striking  and  interesting,  —  to  contemplate 
an  eminent  statesman,  in  his  seventy-sixth  year,  and  the  most 
distinguished  philosopher  of  the  age,  performing  a  simple 
pastorale  on  an  instrument  of  his  own  construction.  The 
interest  was  not  diminished  by  the  fact  that  this  philosopher, 
who  was  guiding  the  intellects  of  thousands,  that  this  states 
man,  an  object  of  veneration  in  the  metropolis  of  Europe, 
and  who  was  influencing  the  destiny  of  nations,  had  been  an 
untutored  printer's  boy  in  America. 


AN  EVENING   WITH  FRANKLIN.  8/ 

Our  conversation  during  the  evening  was  turned  to  the  all- 
absorbing  subject  of  the  great  combination  of  the  French  and 
American  forces  against  Cornwallis.  Our  last  information 
left  the  affairs  in  Virginia  in  a  precarious  and  doubtful  pos 
ture.  De  Grasse  had  entered  the  Chesapeake  ;  Washington 
and  Rochambeau  had  united  their  forces  ;  De  Barras,  with 
seven  sail-of-the-line,  had  left  Rhode  Island  to  join  De  Grasse. 
The  British  fleet  had  sailed  from  New  York,  with  ten  thou 
sand  troops,  to  relieve  Cornwallis ;  and  it  was  reported  that 
a  re-enforcement  had  departed  from  England  for  New  York. 
Thus  stood  the  general  aspect  of  our  intelligence  at  a  crisis 
which  seemed  to  involve  the  existence  of  a  young  empire. 
We  weighed  probabilities,  balanced  possible  vicissitudes,  dis 
sected  maps.  We  feared  that  the  British  fleet  might  inter 
cept  De  Barras  at  the  capes  of  Virginia,  and  thus  retrieve  its 
superiority  over  De  Grasse,  attack  and  overwhelm  him,  and, 
landing  their  army,  defeat  and  break  up  the  combinations 
of  Washington.  The  philosophy  and  self-possession,  even  of 
Franklin,  seemed  almost  to  abandon  him.  The  vibrations 
of  hope  and  fear  occupied  his  mind  ;  and  still  I  could  per 
ceive  in  him  a  deep  conviction  of  a  successful  issue  to  the 
operations  of  Washington.  I  left  him  at  night,  in  the  com 
pany  of  Dr.  Bancroft,  an  American  residing  in  London,  but 
an  ardent  Whig  ;  and  I  returned  to  Paris  in  deep  despond 
ency,  sighing  over  the  miseries  of  our  bleeding  country. 

At  dawn  the  next  morning,  I  was  aroused  by  a  thunder 
ing  rap  at  my  door.  It  brought  me  a  circular  from  Dr. 
Franklin,  struck  off  by  a  machine  somewhat  similar  to  the 
copying-machines  of  the  present  day  ;  and  with  what  un 
speakable  thankfulness  and  thrilling  interest  I  read  its  con 
tents  !  It  was  as  follows  :  — 

Copy  of  a  note  from  Count  de  Vergenncs  to  Dr.  Franklin,  dated  Versailles, 
i^th  November,  1781,  n  o 'clock  at  night. 

SIR,  —  I  cannot  better  express  my  gratitude  to  you  for  the  news  you  often 
communicate  to  me,  than  by  informing  you  that  the  Due  de  Lausa;i  arrived  this 
evening  with  the  agreeable  news  that  the  combined  armies  of  France  and  America 
have  forced  Cornwallis  to  capitulate.  The  English  garrison  came  out  of  Yorktown 


88  NEW  ENGLAND. 

the  igth  of  October,  with  honors  of  war,  and  laid  down  their  arms  as  prisoners. 
About  six  thousand  troops,  eighteen  hundred  sailors,  twenty-two  stand  of  colors, 
and«one  hundred  and  seventy  pieces  of  cannon,  —  seventy-five  of  which  are  brass, 
—  are  the  trophies  which  signalize  this  victory :  besides,  a  ship  of  fifty  guns  was 
burnt,  also  a  frigate,  and  a  great  number  of  transports. 

I  have  the  honor,  &c., 

DK  VERGENNES. 
To  his  Excellency,  Dr.  FRANKLIN. 

The  next  day  I  waited  on  Dr.  Franklin,  together  with  many- 
American  and  French  gentlemen,  to  offer  our  mutual  con 
gratulations.  He  appeared  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy,  observing, 
"  There  is  no  parallel  in  history  of  two  entire  armies  being 
captured  from  the  same  enemy  in  any  one  war." 

The  delight  and  the  rejoicings  of  all  classes  of  the  people 
were  excessive.  Paris  was  illuminated  for  three  successive 
nights.  On  my  return  to  Nantes,  along  the  banks  of  the 
Loire,  I  found  all  the  cities  in  a  blaze  of  illumination,  and 
Nantes  in  the  midst  of  it  on  my  arrival. 

AN  AMERICAN'S  MOMENT  OF  TRIUMPH. 

Soon  after  my  arrival  in  England,  having  won  at  the 
insurance-office  one  hundred  guineas,  on  the  event  of  Lord 
Howe's  relieving  Gibraltar,  and  dining  the  same  day  with 
Copley,  the  distinguished  painter,  who  was  a  Bostonian  by 
birth,  I  determined  to  devote  the  sum  to  a  splendid  portrait 
of  myself.  The  painting  was  finished  in  most  admirable 
style,  except  the  background,  which  Copley  and  I  designed 
to  represent  a  ship,  bearing  to  America  the  intelligence  of  the 
acknowledgment  of  Independence,  with  a  sun  just  rising  upon 
the  stripes  of  the  Union,  streaming  from  her  gaff.  All  was 
complete,  save  the  flag,  which  Copley  did  not  deem  prudent  to 
hoist  under  present  circumstances,  as  his  gallery  is  a  constant 
resort  of  the  royal  family  and  the  nobility.  I  dined  with  the 
artist  on  the  glorious  5th  of  December,  1782,  after  listening 
with  him  to  the  speech  of  the  king,  formally  recognizing  the 
United  States  of  America  as  in  the  rank  of  nations.  Pre 
vious  to  dining,  and  immediately  after  our  return  from  the 
House  of  Lords,  he  invited  me  into  his  studio,  and  there 


AN  AMERICAN'S  MOMENT  OF  TRIUMPH.       89 

with  a  bold  hand,  a  master's  touch,  and,  I  believe,  an  Ameri 
can  heart,  attached  to  the  ship  the  stars  and  stripes.  This 
was,  I  imagine,  the  first  American  flag  hoisted  in  Old  Eng 
land.^ 

At  an  early  hour  on  the  5th  of  December,  1 782,  in  con 
formity  with  previous  arrangements,  I  was  conducted  by  the 
Earl  of  Ferrers  to  the  very  entrance  of  the  House  of  Lords. 
At  the  door  he  whispered,  "  Get  as  near  the  throne  as  you 
can  :  fear  nothing."  I  did  so,  and  found  myself  exactly  in 
front. of  it,  elbow  to  elbow  with  the  celebrated  Admiral  Lord 
Howe.  The  lords  were  promiscuously  standing  as  I  entered. 
It  was  a  dark  and  foggy  day  ;  and  the  windows  being  elevated, 
and  constructed  in  the  antiquated  style,  with  leaden  bars  to 
contain  the  diamond-cut  panes  of  glass,  increased  the  gloom. 
The  walls  were  hung  with  dark  tapestry,  representing  the 
defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  rec 
ognizing  in  the  crowd  of  spectators  Copley,  and  West  the 
painter,  with  some  American  ladies.  I  saw,  also,  some  de 
jected  American  Royalists  in  the  group. 

After  waiting  nearly  two  hours,  the  approach  of  the  king 
was  announced  by  a  tremendous  roar  of  artillery.  He  entered 
by  a  small  door  on  the  left  of  the  throne,  and  immediately 
seated  himself  upon  the  chair  of  state,  in  a  graceful  attitude, 
with  his  right  foot  resting  upon  a  stool.  He  was  clothed  in 
royal  robes.  Apparently  agitated,  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
the  scroll  containing  his  speech.  The  commons  were  sum- 

1  "  I  brought  this  splendid  painting  with  me  to  America,  and  it  is  still  in  my  pos 
session.  It  is  pronounced  by  artists  second  to  no  painting  in  America,  and  has, 
at  their  earnest  request,  been  deposited  in  academies  and  schools  of  painting  as  a 
study  for  young  artists.  Copley  assured  me  that  it  would  not,  in  his  own  language, 
'  ripen  in  forty  years ; '  and  now,  after  an  interval  of  more  than  half  a  century, 
its  colors  appear  clearer  and  more  brilliant  than  on  the  day  they  left  the  painter's 
pallet  (1821).  This  magnificent  painting,  equal,  probably,  to  any  in  America  in 
style  and  execution,  becoming  by  age  more  brilliant  in  its  coloring,  and  mellowed 
and  ripened  by  time,  is  now  at  the  mansion  of  Charles  M.  Watson,  Port  Kent, 
Essex  County,  N.Y."  —  Winslow  C.  Watson.  Mr.  Ajrustus  Thorndike  Perkins,  in 
his  recent  "  Sketch  of  the  Life  and  List  of  some  of  the  Works  of  John  Singleton 
Copley"  (1873),  states  that  the  picture  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  Thompson 
of  Philadelphia. 


QO  NEW  ENGLAND. 

moned  ;  and,  after  the  bustle  of  their  entrance  had  subsided, 
he  proceeded  to  read  his  speech.  I  was  near  the  king,  and 
watched  with  intense  interest  every  tone  of  his  voice,  and 
expression  of  his  countenance.  It  was  to  me  a  moment  of 
thrilling  and  dignified  exultation.  After  some  general  and 
usual  remarks,  he  continued, — 

"  I  lost  no  time  in  giving  the  necessary  orders  to  prohibit 
the  further  prosecution  of  offensive  war  upon  the  continent 
of  North  America.  Adopting,  as  my  inclination  will  always 
lead  me  to  do,  with  decision  and  effect  whatever  I  collect  to 
be  the  sense  of  my  parliament  and  my  people,  I  have  pointed 
all  my  views  and  measures  in  Europe,  as  in  North  America, 
to  an  entire  and  cordial  reconciliation  with  the  colonies.  Find 
ing  it  indispensable  to  the  attainment  of  this  object,  I  did 
not  hesitate  to  go  to  the  full  length  of  the  powers  vested  in 
me,  and  offer  to  declare  them  "  —  Here  he  paused,  and  was  in 
evident  agitation,  either  embarrassed  in  reading  his  speech 
by  the  darkness  of  the  room,  or  affected  by  a  very  natural 
emotion.  In  a  moment  he  resumed,  "and  offer  to  declare 
them  free  and  independent  States.  In  thus  admitting  their 
separation  from  the  crown  of  these  kingdoms,  I  have  sacri 
ficed  every  consideration  of  my  own  to  the  wishes  and  opin 
ions  of  my  people.  I  make  it  my  humble  and  ardent  prayer 
to  Almighty  God,  that  Great  Britain  may  not  feel  the  evils 
which  might  result  from  so  great  a  dismemberment  of  the 
empire,  and  that  America  may  be  free  from  the  calamities 
which  have  formerly  proved  in  the  mother-country  how 
essential  monarchy  is  to  the  enjoyment  of  constitutional  lib 
erty.  Religion,  language,  interests,  and  affection  may,  and  I 
hope  will,  yet  prove  a  bond  of  permanent  union  between  the 
two  countries." 

It  is  remarked,  that  George  III.  is  celebrated  for  reading 
his  speeches  in  a  distinct,  free,  and  impressive  manner.  On 
this  occasion  he  was  evidently  embarrassed.  He  hesitated, 
choked,  and  executed  the  painful  duties  of  the  occasion  with 
an  ill  grace  that  does  not  belong  to  him.  I  cannot  adequately 
portray  my  sensations  in  the  progress  of  this  address  :  every 


AN  AMERICAN'S  MOMENT  OF  TRIUMPH.      9! 

artery  beat  high,  and  swelled  with  my  proud  American  blood. 
It  was  impossible  not  to  revert  to  the  opposite  shores  of  the 
Atlantic,  and  to  review  in  my  mind's  eye  the  misery  and  woe 
I  had  myself  witnessed  in  several  stages  of  the  contest,  and 
the  widespread  desolation  resulting  from  the  stubbornness 
of  this  very  king,  now  so  prostrate,  but  who  had  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  our  humble  and  importunate  petitions  for  relief. 
Yet  I  believe  that  George  III.  acted  under  what  he  felt  to  be 
the  high  and  solemn  claims  of  constitutional  duty. 

The  great  drama  was  now  closed.  The  battle  of  Lexing 
ton  exhibited  its  first  scene.  The  Declaration  of  Independ 
ence  was  a  lofty  and  glorious  event  in  its  progress  ;  and  the 
ratification  of  our  independence  by  the  king  consummated 
the  spectacle  in  triumph  and  exultation.  This  successful 
issue  of  the  American  Revolution  will,  in  all  probability, 
influence  eventually  the  destinies  of  the  whole  human  race. 
Such  had  been  the  sentiment  and  language  of  men  of  the 
profounclest  sagacity  and  prescience,  during  and  anterior  to 
the  conflict,  in  all  appeals  to  the  people.  In  leaving  the  house, 
I  jostled  Copley  and  West,  who,  I  thought,  were  enjoying 
the  rich  political  repast  of  the  day,  and  noticing  the  anguish 
and  despair  depicted  on  the  long  visages  of  our  American 
Tories. 

The  ensuing  afternoon,  having  a  card  of  admission  from 
Alderman  Wool,  I  attended  in  the  gallery  of  the  House  of 
Commons.  There  was  no  elaborate  debate,  but  much  acri 
mony  evinced  in  the  incidental  discussions.  Commodore 
Johnstone  assailed  Lord  Howe's  late  expedition  to  Gibraltar, 
because  he  had  not  gained  a  decisive  victory,  alleging,  that, 
with  proper  effort,  he  might  have  done  so  ;  when  Mr.  Town- 
shend  defended  him  with  zeal  and  spirit.  Capt.  Luttrell,  a 
naval  officer,  then  attacked  Fox  with  much  severity,  accusing 
him  of  treating  the  navy,  in  some  of  his  speeches,  with  disre 
spect.  Fox  replied  with  his  wonted  keen  and  sarcastic  style, 
in  a  short  and  rapid  speech.  Mr.  Burke  at  length  arose,  and 
attacked  the  king's  address  of  the  day  before  in  a  vein  of 
satire  and  ridicule.  He  said,  "  It  was  a  farrago  of  nonsense 


92  NEW  ENGLAND. 

and  hypocrisy."  Young  Pitt,  the  newly  created  chancellor  of 
the  exchequer,  replied  to  Mr.  Burke,  and  handled  him  with  dig 
nified  severity,  imputing  to  him  buffoonery  and  levity.  Gen. 
Conway  said,  "  The  recognition  of  American  Independence 
was  explicit  and  unconditional." 

NEW-ENGLAND  SEACOAST  LIFE. 

[A  glimpse  of  New  England  under  peculiar  conditions  is 
afforded  by  the  sketches  of  Hector  St.  John  Crevecreur  in  his 
"  Letters  from  an  American  Farmer."  He  visited  the  islands 
of  Nantucket  and  Martha's  Vineyard  shortly  before  the  war, 
and  was  captivated  by  the  simplicity  and  sturdiness  of  life 
there.  He  gives  detailed  accounts  of  the  industry  of  the 
inhabitants  ;  and  his  pictures  of  the  bustling  life  upon  the 
islands  at  that  time  contrast  strangely  with  the  quiet  and 
sleepiness  of  the  same  places  to-day.  It  is  apparent  that  he 
regarded  the  life  there  as  in  a  peculiar  sense  characteristic  of 
the  new  American  nation  that  was  forming.  We  give  some 
passages  from  his  descriptions  of  the  islands.] 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  WHALE-FISHERY. 

The  first  proprietors  of  this  island,  or,  rather,  the  first 
founders  of  this  town,  began  their  career  of  industry  with  a 
single  whaleboat,  with  which  they  went  to  fish  for  cod.  The 
small  distance  from  their  shores  at  which  they  caught  it 
enabled  them  soon  to  increase  their  business  ;  and  those  early 
successes  first  led  them  to  conceive  that  they  might  likewise 
catch  the  whales,  which  hitherto  sported  undisturbed  on  their 
banks.  After  many  trials,  and  several  miscarriages,  they  suc 
ceeded  ;  thus  they  proceeded,  step  by  step.  The  profits  of  one 
successful  enterprise  helped  them  to  purchase  and  prepare 
better  materials  for  a  more  extensive  one  :  as  these  were  at 
tended  with  little  costs,  their  profits  grew  greater.  The  south 
sides  of  the  island,  from  east  to  west,  were  divided  into  four 
equal  parts  ;  and  each  part  was  assigned  to  a  company  of  six, 
which,  though  thus  separated,  still  carried  on  their  business  in 
common.  In  the  middle  of  this  distance  they  erected  a  mast, 


THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE    WHALE-FISHERY.     93 

provided  with  a  sufficient  number  of  rounds  ;  and  near  it  they 
built  a  temporary  hut,  where  five  of  the  associates  lived  ; 
whilst  the  sixth  from  his  high  station  carefully  looked  toward 
the  sea  in  order  to  observe  the  spouting  of  the  whales.  As 
soon  as  any  were  discovered,  the  sentinel  descended,  the 
whaleboat  was  launched,  and  the  company  went  forth  in 
quest  of  their  game.  It  may  appear  strange  to  you,  that  so 
slender  a  vessel  as  an  American  whaleboat,  containing  six 
diminutive  beings,  should  dare  to  pursue  and  to  attack  in  its 
native  element  the  largest  and  strongest  fish  that  Nature  has 
created.  Yet  by  the  exertions  of  an  admirable  dexterity, 
improved  by  a  long  practice,  in  which  these  people  are  be 
come  superior  to  any  other  whalemen,  by  knowing  the  temper 
of  the  whale  after  her  first  movement,  and  by  many  other 
useful  observations,  they  seldom  failed  to  harpoon  it,  and  to 
bring  the  huge  leviathan  on  the  shores.  Thus  they  went  on, 
until  the  profits  they  made  enabled  them  to  purchase  larger 
vessels,  and  to  pursue  them  farther  when  the  whales  quitted 
their  coasts.  Those  who  failed  in  their  enterprises  returned  to 
the  cod-fisheries,  which  had  been  their  first  school,  and  their 
first  resource  :  they  even  began  to  visit  the  banks  of  Cape 
Breton,  the  Isle  of  Sable,  and  all  the  other  fishing-places,  with 
which  this  coast  of  America  abounds.  By  degrees  they  went 
a-whaling  to  Newfoundland,  to  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  to 
the  Straits  of  Belleisle,  the  coast  of  Labrador,  Davis's  Straits, 
even  to  Cape  Desolation,  in  70°  of  latitude,  where  the  Danes 
carry  on  some  fisheries  in  spite  of  the  perpetual  severities  of 
that  inhospitable  climate.  In  process  of  time,  they  visited  the 
Western  Islands,  the  latitude  of  34°,  famous  for  that  fish,  the 
Brazils,  the  coast  of  Guinea.  Would  you  believe  that  they 
have  already  gone  to  the  Falkland  Islands,  and  that  I  have 
heard  several  of  them  talk  of  going  to  the  South  Sea  !  Their 
confidence  is  so  great,  and  their  knowledge  of  this  branch  of 
business  so  superior  to  that  of  any  other  people,  that  they 
have  acquired  a  monopoly  of  this  commodity. 


94  NEW  ENGLAND. 

THE  MODE  OF  WHALE-FISHING. 

The  vessels  most  proper  for  whale-fishing  are  brigs  of 
about  a  hundred  and  fifty  tons  burthen,  particularly  when  they 
are  intended  for  distant  latitudes.  They  always  man  them 
with  thirteen  hands,  in  order  that  they  may  row  two  whale- 
boats,  the  crews  of  which  must  necessarily  consist  of  six,  — 
four  at  the  oars,  one  standing  on  the  bows  with  the  harpoon, 
and  the  other  at  the  helm.  It  is  also  necessary  that  there 
should  be  two  of  these  boats,  that,  if  one  should  be  destroyed 
in  attacking  the  whale,  the  other,  which  is  never  engaged  at 
the  same  time,  may  be  ready  to  save  the  hands.  Five  of  the 
thirteen  are  always  Indians.  The  last  of  the  complement 
remains  on  board  to  steer  the  vessel  during  the  action.  They 
have  no  wages.  Each  draws  a  certain  established  share  in 
partnership  with  the  proprietor  of  the  vessel  ;  by  which  econ 
omy  they  are  all  proportionably  concerned  in  the  success  of 
the  enterprise,  and  all  equally  alert  and  vigilant.  None  of 
these  whalemen  ever  exceed  the  age  of  forty :  they  look  on 
those  who  are  past  that  period  not  to  be  possessed  of  all  that 
vigor  and  agility  which  so  adventurous  a  business  requires. 
Indeed,  if  you  attentively  consider  the  immense  disproportion 
between  the  object  assailed  and  the  assailants,  if  you  think 
on  the  diminutive  size  and  weakness  of  their  frail  vehicle,  if 
you  recollect  the  treachery  of  the  element  on  which  this  scene 
is  transacted,  the  sudden  and  unforeseen  accidents  of  winds, 
&c.,  you  will  readily  acknowledge  that  it  must  require  the 
most  consummate  exertion  of  all  the  strength,  agility,  and 
judgment  of  which  the  bodies  and  the  minds  of  men  are  capa 
ble,  to  undertake  these  adventurous  encounters. 

As  soon  as  they  arrive  in  those  latitudes  where  they  expect 
to  meet  with  whales,  a  man  is  sent  up  to  the  masthead.  If  he 
sees  one,  he  immediately  cries  out,  "  AWAITE  PAWANA"  (here 
is  a  whale).  They  all  remain  still  and  silent  until  he  repeats 
"PAWANA  "  (a  whale),  when,  in  less  than  six  minutes,  the  two 
boats  are  launched,  filled  with  every  implement  necessary  for 
the  attack.  They  row  toward  the  whale  with  astonishing  velo- 


THE  MODE   OF  WHALE-FISHING.  95 

city ;  and,  as  the  Indians  early  became  their  fellow-laborers  in 
this  new  warfare,  you  can  easily  conceive  how  the  Nattick  ex 
pressions  became  familiar  on  board  the  whaleboats.  Formerly 
it  often  happened  that  whale-vessels  were  manned  with  none 
but  Indians  and  the  master:  recollect,  also,  that  the  Nantucket 
people  understand  the  Nattick,  and  that  there  are  always  five 
of  these  people  on  board.  There  are  various  ways  of  ap 
proaching  the  whale,  according  to  their  peculiar  species  ;  and 
his  previous  knowledge  is  of  the  utmost  consequence.  When 
these  boats  are  arrived  at  a  reasonable  distance,  one  of  them 
rests  on  its  oars,  and  stands  off,  as  a  witness  of  the  ap 
proaching  engagement :  near  the  bows  of  the  other,  the  har- 
pooner  stands  up  ;  and  on  him  principally  depends  the  success 
of  the  enterprise.  He  wears  a  jacket  closely  buttoned,  and 
round  his  head  a  handkerchief  tightly  bound  :  in  his  hands 
he  holds  the  dreadful  weapon  (made  of  the  best  steel,  marked 
sometimes  with  the  name  of  their  town,  and  sometimes  with 
that  of  their  vessel),  to  the  shaft  of  which  the  end  of  a  cord 
of  due  strength,  coiled  up  with  the  utmost  care  in  the  middle 
of  the  boat,  is  firmly  tied :  the  other  end  is  fastened  to  the 
bottom  of  the  boat.  Thus  prepared,  they  row  in  profound 
silence,  leaving  the  whole  conduct  of  the  enterprise  to  the 
harpooner  and  to  the  steersman,  attentively  following  their 
directions.  When  the  former  judges  himself  to  be  near 
enough  to  the  whale,  that  is,  at  the  distance  of  about  fifteen 
feet,  he  bids  them  stop  :  perhaps  she  has  a  calf,  whose  safety 
attracts  all  the  attention  of  the  dam,  which  is  a  favorable 
circumstance  ;  perhaps  she  is  of  a  dangerous  species,  and  it 
is  safest  to  retire,  though  their  ardor  will  seldom  permit  them  ; 
perhaps  she  is  asleep,  in  that  case,  he  balances  high  the  har 
poon,  trying  in  this  important  moment  to  collect  all  the  energy 
of  which  he  is  capable.  He  launches  it  forth,  she  is  struck : 
from  her  first  movement  they  judge  of  her  temper  as  well  as  of 
their  future  success.  Sometimes,  in  the  immediate  impulse 
of  rage,  she  will  attack  the  boat,  and  demolish  it  with  one 
stroke  of  her  tail :  in  an  instant  the  frail  vehicle  disappears, 
and  the  assailants  are  immersed  in  the  dreadful  element. 


g  NEW  ENGLAND. 

Were  the  whale  armed  with  the  jaws  of  the  shark,  and  as 
voracious,  they  never  would  return  home  to  amuse  their  lis 
tening  wives  with  the  interesting  tale  of  the  adventure.  At 
other  times  she  will  dive,  and  disappear  from  human  sight; 
and  every  thing  must  then  give  way  to  her  velocity,  or  else  all 
is  lost.  Sometimes  she  will  swim  away  as  if  untouched,  and 
draw  the  cord  with  such  swiftness,  that  it  will  set  the  edge  of 
the  boat  on  fire  by  the  friction.  If  she  rises  before  she  has 
run  out  the  whole  length,  she  is  looked  upon  as  a  sure  prey. 
The  blood  she  has  lost  in  her  flight  weakens  her  so  much, 
that,  if  she  sinks  again,  it  is  but  for  a  short  time.  The  boat 
follows  her  course  with  an  almost  equal  speed.  She  soon  re 
appears  ;  tired  at  last  with  convulsing  the  element,  which  she 
tinges  with  her  blood,  she  dies,  and  floats  on  the  surface.  At 
other  times  it  may  happen  that  she  is  not  dangerously 
wounded,  though  she  carries  the  harpoon  fast  in  her  body ; 
when  she  will  alternately  dive  and  rise,  and  swim  on  with  un 
abated  vigor.  She  then  soon  reaches  beyond  the  length  of  the 
cord,  and  carries  the  boat  along  with  amazing  velocity  :  this 
sudden  impediment  sometimes  will  retard  her  speed,  at  other 
times  it  only  serves  to  rouse  her  anger,  and  to  accelerate  her 
progress.  The  harpooner,  with  the  axe  in  his  hands,  stands 
ready.  When  he  observes  that  the  bows  of  the  boat  are  greatly 
pulled  down  by  the  diving  whale,  and  that  it  begins  to  sink 
deep,  and  to  take  much  water,  he  brings  the  axe  almost  in  con 
tact  with  the  cord.  He  pauses,  still  flattering  himself  that  she 
will  relax  ;  but  the  moment  grows  critical ;  unavoidable  danger 
approaches.  Sometimes  men,  more  intent  on  gain  than  on  the 
preservation  of  their  lives,  will  run  great  risks  ;  and  it  is  won 
derful  how  far  these  people  have  carried  their  daring  courage 
at  this  awful  moment.  But  it  is  vain  to  hope :  their  lives 
must  be  saved.  The  cord  is  cut ;  the  boat  rises  again.  If, 
after  thus  getting  loose,  she  re-appears,  they  will  attack,  and 
wound  her  a  second  time.  She  soon  dies ;  and,  when  dead, 
she  is  towed  alongside  of  their  vessel,  where  she  is  fastened. 
The  next  operation  is  to  cut,  with  axes  and  spades,  every 
part  of  her  body  which  yields  oil.  The  kettles  are  set  a-boil- 


PECULIAR   CUSTOMS  AT  NANTUCKET.        97 

ing  ;  they  fill  their  barrels  as  fast  as  it  is  made  :  but,  as  this 
operation  is  much  slower  than  that  of  cutting  up,  they  fill  the 
hold  of  their  ship  with  those  fragments,  lest  a  storm  should 
arise,  and  oblige  them  to  abandon  their  prize.  It  is  astonish 
ing  what  a  quantity  of  oil  some  of  these  fish  will  yield,  and 
what  profit  it  affords  to  those  who  are  fortunate  enough  to 
overtake  them.  The  River  St.  Lawrence  whale,  which  is  the 
only  one  I  am  well  acquainted  with,  is  seventy-five  feet  long, 
sixteen  deep,  twelve  in  the  length  of  its  bone  (which  com 
monly  weighs  three  thousand  pounds),  twenty  in  the  breadth 
of  their  tails,  and  produces  a  hundred  and  eighty  barrels  of 
oil :  I  once  saw  sixteen  boiled  out  of  the  tongue  only.  After 
having  once  vanquished  this  leviathan,  there  are  two  enemies 
to  be  dreaded  beside  the  wind,  the  first  of  which  is  the  shark. 
That  fierce,  voracious  fish,  to  which  Nature  has  given  such 
dreadful  offensive  weapons,  often  comes  alongside,  and,  in 
spite  of  the  people's  endeavors,  will  share  with  them  in  their 
prey,  at  night  particularly.  They  are  very  mischievous.  But 
the  second  enemy  is  much  more  terrible  and  irresistible  :  it  is 
the  killer,  sometimes  called  the  thrasher,  a  species  of  whales 
about  thirty  feet  long.  They  are  possessed  of  such  a  degree 
of  agility  and  fierceness  as  often  to  attack  the  largest  sperma 
ceti  whales,  and  not  seldom  to  rob  the  fishermen  of  their 
prey;  nor  are  there  any  means  of  defence  against  so  potent 
an  adversary.  When  all  their  barrels  are  full  (for  every  thing 
is  done  at  sea),  or  when  their  limited  time  is  expired,  and  their 
stores  almost  expended,  they  return  home,  freighted  with  their 
valuable  cargo,  unless  they  have  put  it  on  board  a  vessel 
for  the  European  market.  Such  are,  as  briefly  as  I  can  relate 
them,  the  different  branches  of  the  economy  practised  by 
these  bold  navigators,  and  the  method  with  which  they  go 
such  distances  from  their  island  to  catch  this  huge  game. 

PECULIAR  CUSTOMS  AT  NANTUCKET. 

The  manners  of  the  Friends  are  entirely  founded  on  that 
simplicity  which  is   their  boast  and  their  most  distinguished 
characteristic  ;  and  those  manners  have  acquired  the  authority 
7 


98  NEW  ENGLAND. 

of  laws.  Here  they  are  strongly  attached  to  plainness  of 
dress  as  well  as  to  that  of  language,  insomuch,  that,  though 
some  part  of  it  may  be  ungrammatical,  yet,  should  any  person 
who  was  born  and  brought  up  here  attempt  to  speak  more 
correctly,  he  would  be  looked  upon  as  a  fop  or  an  innovator. 
On  the  other  hand,  should  a  stranger  come  here,  and  adopt 
their  idiom  in  all  its  purity  (as  they  deem  it),  this  accomplish 
ment  would  immediately  procure  him  the  most  cordial  recep 
tion  ;  and  they  would  cherish  him  like  an  ancient  member  of 
their  society.  So  many  impositions  have  they  suffered  on  this 
account,  that  they  begin  now,  indeed,  to  grow  more  cautious. 
They  are  so  tenacious  of  their  ancient  habits  of  industry  and 
frugality,  that  if  any  of  them  were  to  be  seen  with  a  long 
coat,  made  of  English  cloth,  on  any  other  than  the  First  Day 
(Sunday),  he  would  be  greatly  ridiculed  and  censured :  he 
would  be  looked  upon  as  a  careless  spendthrift,  whom  it  would 
be  unsafe  to  trust,  and  in  vain  to  relieve.  A  few  years  ago, 
two  single-horse  chairs  were  imported  from  Boston,  to  the 
great  offence  of  these  prudent  citizens.  Nothing  appeared  to 
them  more  culpable  than  the  use  cf  such  gaudy  painted  vehi 
cles,  in  contempt  of  the  more  useful  and  more  simple  single- 
horse  carts  of  their  fathers.  This  piece  of  extravagant  and 
unknown  luxury  almost  caused  a  schism,  and  set  every  tongue 
a-going.  Some  predicted  the  approaching  ruin  of  those  fami 
lies  that  had  imported  them :  others  feared  the  dangers  of 
example.  Never  since  the  foundation  of  the  town  had  there 
happened  any  thing  which  so  much  alarmed  this  primitive 
community.  One  cf  the  possessors  of  these  profane  chairs, 
filled  vvith  repentance,  wisely  sent  it  back  to  the  continent : 
the  other,  more  obstinate  and  perverse,  in  defiance  of  all  re 
monstrances,  persisted  in  the  use  cf  his  chair,  until  by  degrees 
they  became  more  reconciled  to  it ;  though  I  observed  that 
the  wealthiest  and  the  most  respectable  people  still  go  to 
meeting,  or  to  their  farms,  in  a  single-horse  cart  with  a  decent 
awning  fixed  over  it.  Indeed,  if  you  consider  their  sandy  soil, 
and  the  badness  of  their  roads,  these  appear  to  be  the  best 
contrived  vehicles  for  this  island. 


PECULIAR   CUSTOMS  AT  NANTUCKET.         99 

Idleness  is  the  most  heinous  sin  that  can  be  committed 
in  Nantucket  An  idle  man  would  soon  be  pointed  out  as  an 
object  of  compassion  ;  for  idleness  is  considered  as  another 
word  for  want  and  hunger.  This  principle  is  so  thoroughly 
well  understood,  and  is  become  so  universal,  so  prevailing  a 
prejudice,  that,  literally  speaking,  they  are  never  idle.  Even 
if  they  go  to  the  market-place,  which  is  (if  I  may  be  allowed 
the  expression)  the  coffee-house  of  the  town,  either  to  trans 
act  business,  or  to  converse  with  their  friends,  they  always 
have  a  piece  of  cedar  in  their  hands  ;  and,  while  they  are  talk 
ing,  they  will,  as  it  were  instinctively,  employ  themselves  in 
converting  it  into  something  useful,  —  either  in  making  bungs 
or  spoyls  1  for  their  oil-casks,  or  other  useful  articles.  I  must 
confess  that  I  have  never  seen  more  ingenuity  in  the  use  of 
the  knife  ;  thus  the  most  idle  moments  of  their  lives  become 
usefully  employed.  In  the  many  hours  of  leisure  which  their 
long  cruises  afford  them,  they  cut  and  carve  a  variety  of  boxes 
and  pretty  toys  in  wood,  adapted  to  different  uses,  which  they 
bring  home  as  testimonies  of  remembrance  to  their  wives 
and  sweethearts.  They  have  shown  me  a  variety  of  little 
bowls  and  other  implements,  executed  cooper-wise,  with  the 
greatest  neatness  and  elegance.  You  will  be  pleased  to  re 
member  they  are  all  brought  up  to  the  trade  of  coopers,  be 
their  future  intentions  or  fortunes  what  they  may :  therefore 
almost  every  man  in  this  island  has  always  two  knives  in  his 
pocket,  one  much  larger  than  the  other  ;  and  though  they 
hold  every  thing  that  is  called  fashion  in  the  utmost  contempt, 
yet  they  are  as  difficult  to  please,  and  as  extravagant  in  the 
choice  and  price  of  their  knives,  as  any  young  buck  in  Boston 
would  be  about  his  hat,  buckles,  or  coat.  As  soon  as  a  knife 
is  injured,  or  superseded  by  a  more  convenient  one,  it  is  care 
fully  laid  up  in  some  corner  of  their  desk.  I  once  saw 

upwards  of  fifty  thus  preserved  at  Mr.  's,  one  of   the 

worthiest  men  on  this  island  ;  and  among  the  whole,  there 
was  not  one  that  perfectly  resembled  another. 

1  Spoyls  are  presumably  what  country  people  call  spiles,  and  the  dictionaries 
spigots. 


IOO  NEW  ENGLAND. 


NANTUCKET  WOMEN. 

As  the  sea-excursions  are  often  very  long,  their  wives,  in 
their  absence,  are  necessarily  obliged  to  transact  business,  to 
settle  accounts,  and,  in  short,  to  rule  and  provide  for  their 
families.  These  circumstances  being  often  repeated,  give 
women  the  abilities,  as  well  as  a  taste,  for  that  kind  of  super- 
intendency,  to  which,  by  their  prudence  and  good  manage 
ment,  they  seem  to  be,  in  general,  very  equal.  This  employ 
ment  ripens  their  judgment,  and  justly  entitles  them  to  a 
rank  superior  to  that  of  other  wives  ;  and  this  is  the  principal 
reason  why  those  of  Nan  tucket,  as  well  as  those  of  Montreal,1 
are  so  fond  of  society,  so  affable,  and  so  conversant  with  the 
affairs  of  the  world.  The  men  at  their  return,  weary  with  the 
fatigues  of  the  sea,  full  of  confidence  and  love,  cheerfully  give 
their  consent  to  every  transaction  that  has  happened  during 
their  absence  ;  and  all  is  joy  and  peace.  "  Wife,  thee  hast  done 
well,"  is  the  general  approbation  they  receive  for  their  appli 
cation  and  industry.  What  would  the  men  do  without  the 
agency  of  these  faithful  mates  ?  The  absence  of  so  many  of 
them  at  particular  seasons  leaves  the  town  quite  desolate  ; 
and  this  mournful  situation  disposes  the  women  to  go  to  each 
other's  house  much  oftener  than  when  their  husbands  are  at 
home :  hence  the  custom  of  incessant  visiting  has  infected 
every  one,  and  even  those  whose  husbands  do  not  go  abroad. 
The  house  is  always  cleaned  before  they  set  out ;  and  with 
peculiar  alacrity  they  pursue  their  intended  visit,  which  con 
sists  of  a  social  chat,  a  dish  of  tea,  and  a  hearty  supper. 
When  the  goodman  of  the  house  returns  from  his  labor,  he 
peaceably  goes  after  his  wife,  and  brings  her  home  :  mean 
while  the  young  fellows,  equally  vigilant,  easily  find  out  which 
is  the  most  convenient  house,  and  there  they  assemble  with 
the  girls  of  the  neighborhood.  Instead  of  cards,  musical 
instruments,  or  songs,  they  relate  stories  of  their  whaling- 

1  "  Most  of  the  merchants  and  young  men  of  Montreal  spend  the  greatest  part  of 
their  time  in  trading  with  the  Indians,  at  an  amazing  distance  from  Canada  ;  and  it 
often  happens  that  they  are  three  years  together  absent  from  home."  —  Crevecceur. 


NANTUCKET  WOMEN.  IOI 

voyages,  their  various  sea-adventures,  and  talk  of  the  different 
coasts  and  people  they  have  visited.  "  The  Island  of  Catha 
rine  in  the  Brazils,"  says  one,  "  is  a  very  droll  island.  It  is  in 
habited  by  none  but  men  :  women  are  not  permitted  to  come 
in  sight  of  it :  not  a  woman  is  there  on  the  whole  island.  Who 
among  us  is  not  glad  it  is  not  so  here  ?  The  Nantucket  girls 
and  boys  -beat  the  world  !  "  At  this  innocent  sally  the  titter 
goes  round  :  they  whisper  to  one  another  their  spontaneous 
reflections.  Puddings,  pies,  and  custards  never  fail  to  be  pro 
duced  on  such  occasions  ;  for  I  believe  there  never  were  any 
people  in  their  circumstances  who  lived  so  well,  even  to  super 
abundance.  As  inebriation  is  unknown,  and  music,  singing, 
and  dancing  are  holden  in  equal  detestation,  they  never  could 
fill  all  the  vacant  hours  of  their  lives  without  the  repast  of  the 
table.  Thus  these  young  people  sit  and  talk,  and  divert  them 
selves  as  well  as  they  can.  If  any  one  has  lately  returned 
from  a  cruise,  he  is  generally  the  speaker  of  the  night.  They 
often  all  laugh  and  talk  together  ;  but  they  are  happy,  and 
would  not  exchange  their  pleasures  for  those  of  the  most  bril 
liant  assemblies  in  Europe.  This  lasts  until  the  father  and 
mother  return,  when  all  retire  to  their  respective  homes,  the 
men  reconducting  the  partners  of  their  affections. 

Thus  they  spend  many  of  the  youthful  evenings  of  their 
lives  :  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  they  marry  so  early.  But 
no  sooner  have  they  undergone  this  ceremony  than  they  cease 
to  appear  so  cheerful  and  gay  :  the  new  rank  they  hold  in  the 
society  impresses  them  with  more  serious  ideas  than  were 
entertained  before.  The  title  of  master  of  a  family  necessa 
rily  requires  more  solid  behavior  and  deportment.  The  new 
wife  follows  in  the  trammels  of  custom,  which  are  as  powerful 
as  the  tyranny  of  fashion  :  she  gradually  advises  and  directs  : 
the  new  husband  soon  goes  to  sea  :  he  leaves  her  to  learn. and 
exercise  the  new  government  in  which  she  is  entered.  Those 
who  stay  at  home  are  full  as  passive  in  general,  at  least  with 
regard  to  the  inferior  departments  of  the  family.  But  you 
must  not  imagine  from  this  account  that  the  Nantucket  wives 
are  turbulent,  of  high  temper,  and  difficul^Xt^S^fe^N  von 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY   I 

OF  J 


IO2  NEW  ENGLAND. 

the  contrary,  the  wives  of  Sherburn,  in  so  doing,  comply  only 
with  the  prevailing  custom  of  the  island :  the  husbands, 
equally  submissive  to  the  ancient  and  respectable  manners  of 
their  country,  submit,  without  ever  suspecting  that  there  can 
be  any  impropriety.  Were  they  to  behave  otherwise,  they 
would  be  afraid  of  subverting  the  principles  of  their  society 
by  altering  its  ancient  rules  ;  thus  both  parties  are-  perfectly 
satisfied,  and  all  is  peace  and  concord.  The  richest  person 
now  in  the  island  owes  all  his  present  prosperity  and  suc 
cess  to  the  ingenuity  of  his  wife  (this  is  a  known  fact,  which 
is  well  recorded) ;  for,  while  he  was  performing  his  first 
cruises,  she  traded  with  pins  and  needles,  and  kept  a  school. 
Afterward  she  purchased  more  considerable  articles,  which 
she  sold  with  so  much  judgment,  that  she  laid  the  founda 
tion  of  a  system  of  business  that  she  has  ever  since  prose 
cuted  with  equal  dexterity  and  success.  She  wrote  to  Lon 
don,  formed  connections,  and,  in  short,  became  the  only 
ostensible  instrument  of  that  house,  both  at  home  and  abroad. 
Who  is  he  in  this  country,  and  who  is  a  citizen  of  Nantucket 
or  Boston,  who  does  not  know  Aunt  Kesiah?  I  must  tell 

you  that  she  is  the  wife  of  Mr.  C n,  a  very  respectable 

man,  who,  well  pleased  with  all  her  schemes,  trusts  to  her 
judgment,  and  relies  on  her  sagacity,  with  so  entire  a  confi 
dence  as  to  be  altogether  passive  to  the  concerns  of  his  family. 
They  have  the  best  country-seat  on  the  island,  at  Quayes, 
where  they  live  with  hospitality,  and  in  perfect  union.  He 
seems  to  be  altogether  the  contemplative  man. 

To  this  dexterity  in  managing  the  husband's  business 
whilst  he  is  absent,  the  Nantucket  wives  unite  a  great  deal  of 
industry.  They  spin,  or  cause  to  be  spun  in  their  houses, 
abundance  of  wool  and  flax,  and  would  be  forever  disgraced, 
and  looked  upon  as  idlers,  if  all  the  family  were  not  clad  in 
good,  neat,  and  sufficient  homespun  cloth.  First  Days  are 
the  only  seasons  when  it  is  lawful  for  both  sexes  to  exhibit 
some  garments  of  English  manufacture  :  even  these  are  of 
the  most  moderate  price,  and  of  the  gravest  colors.  There  is 
no  kind  of  difference  in  their  dress  :  they  are  all  clad  alike, 
and  resemble  in  that  respect  the  members  of  one  family. 


NEW  SETTLEMENTS.  1 03 

A  singular  custom  prevails  here  among  the  women,  at 
which  I  was  greatly  surprised,  and  am  really  at  a  loss  how  to 
account  for  the  original  cause  that  has  introduced  in  this 
primitive  society  so  remarkable  a  fashion,  or,  rather,  so  ex 
traordinary  a  want.  They  have  adopted,  these  many  years, 
the  Asiatic  custom  of  taking  a  dose  of  opium  every  morning ; 
and  so  deeply  rooted  is  it,  that  they  would  be  at  loss  how  to 
live  without  this  indulgence  :  they  would  rather  be  deprived 
of  any  necessary  than  forego  their  favorite  luxury.  This  is 
much  more  prevailing  among  the  women  than  the  men,  few 
of  the  latter  having  caught  the  contagion  ;  though  the  sheriff, 
whom  I  may  call  the  first  person  in  the  island,  who  is  an  emi 
nent  physician  beside,  and  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  being 
well  acquainted  with,  has  for  many  years  submitted  to  this 
custom.  He  takes  three  grains  of  it  every  day  after  break 
fast,  without  the  effects  of  which,  he  often  told  me,  he  was 
not  able  to  transact  any  business. 

It  is  hard  to  conceive  how  a  people  always  happy  and 
healthy,  in  consequence  of  the  exercise  and  labor  they  under 
go,  never  oppressed  with  the  vapors  of  idleness,  yet  should 
want  the  fictitious  effects  of  opium  to  preserve  that  cheerful 
ness  to  which  their  temperance,  their  climate,  their  happy 
situation,  so  justly  entitle  them.  But  where  is  the  society 
perfectly  free  from  error  or  folly  ?  The  least  imperfect  is 
undoubtedly  that  where  the  greatest  good  preponderates  ; 
and,  agreeable  to  this  rule,  I  can  truly  say  that  I  never  was 
acquainted  with  a  less  vicious  or  more  harmless  one. 

NEW  SETTLEMENTS. 

[The  attention  of  foreign  travellers  was  naturally  directed 
especially  to  those  signs  of  the  new  country  which  were  most 
removed  from  the  Old  World  ways  ;  and  the  Marquis  de  Chas- 
tellux,  in  his  travels,  has  remarked  upon  the  custom  in  the 
wilds  of  Connecticut,  which,  since  his  time,  has  travelled  very 
far  and  wide.] 

While  I  was  meditating  on  the  great  process  of  Nature, 
which  employs  fifty  thousand  years  in  rendering  the  earth 


104  NEW  ENGLAND. 

habitable,  a  new  spectacle,  well  calculated  as  a  contrast  to 
those  which  I  had  been  contemplating,  fixed  my  attention,  and 
excited  my  curiosity :  this  was  the  work  of  a  single  man, 
who,  in  the  space  of  a  year,  had  cut  down  several  acres  of 
wood,  and  had  built  himself  a  house  in  the  middle  of  a  pretty 
extensive  territory  he  had  already  cleared.  I  saw,  for  the 
first  time,  what  I  have  since  observed  a  hundred  times  ;  for  in 
fact,  whatever  mountains  I  have  climbed,  whatever  forests  I 
have  traversed,  whatever  by-paths  I  have  followed,  I  have 
never  travelled  three  miles  without  meeting  with  a  new  settle 
ment,  either  beginning  to  take  form,  or  already  in  cultivation. 
The  following  is  the  manner  of  proceeding  in  these  improve 
ments,  or  new  settlements :  Any  man  who  is  able  to  procure 
a  capital  of  five  or  six  hundred  livres  of  our  money,  or  about 
twenty-five  pounds  sterling,  and  who  has  strength  and  incli 
nation  to  work,  may  go  into  the  woods,  and  purchase  a  por 
tion  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred  acres  of  land, 
which  seldom  costs  him  more  than  a  dollar,  or  four  shillings 
and  sixpence,  an  acre,  a  small  part  of  which  only  he  pays  in 
ready  money.  There  he  conducts  a  cow,  some  pigs  or  a 
full  sow,  and  two  indifferent  horses,  which  do  not  cost  him 
more  than  four  guineas  each.  To  these  precautions  he 
adds  that  of  having  a  provision  of  flour  and  cider.  Provided 
with  this  first  capital,  he  begins  by  felling  all  the  smaller 
trees,  and  some  strong  branches  of  the  large  ones  :  these 
he  makes  use  of  as  fences  to  the  first  field  he  wishes  to 
clear.  He  next  boldly  attacks  those  immense  oaks  or  pines, 
which  one.  would  take  for  the  ancient  lords  of  the  territory 
he  is  usurping :  he  strips  them  of  their  bark,  or  lays  them 
open  all  round  with  his  axe.  These  trees,  mortally  wounded, 
are  the  next  spring  robbed  of  their  honors :  their  leaves  no 
longer  spring,  their  branches  fall,  and  their  trunk  becomes  a 
hideous  skeleton.  This  trunk  still  seems  to  brave  the  efforts 
of  the  new  colonist ;  but,  where  there  are  the  smallest  chinks 
or  crevices,  it  is  surrounded  by  fire,  and  the  flames  consume 
what  the  iron  was  unable  to  destroy.  But  it  is  enough  for 
the  small  trees  to  be  felled,  and  the  great  ones  to  lose  their 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.      10$ 

sap.  This  object  completed,  the  ground  is  cleared.  The  air 
and  the  sun  begin  to  operate  upon  that  earth  which  is  wholly 
formed  of  rotten  vegetables,  and  teems  with  the  latent  princi 
ples  of  production.  The  grass  grows  rapidly.  There  is 
pasturage  for  the  cattle  the  very  first  year  ;  after  which  they 
are  left  to  increase,  or  fresh  ones  are  bought,  and  they  are 
employed  in  tilling  a  piece  of  ground  which  yields  the  enor 
mous  increase  of  twenty  or  thirty  fold.  The  next  year  the 
same  course  is  repeated,  when,  at  the  end  of  two  years,  the 
planter  has  wherewithal  to  subsist,  and  even  to  send  some 
articles  to  market.  At  the  end  of  four  or  five  years,  he  com 
pletes  the  payment  of  his  land,  and  finds  himself  a  comforta 
ble  planter.  Then  his  dwelling — which  at  first  was  no  better 
than  a  large  hut  formed  by  a  square  of  the  trunks  of  trees, 
placed  one  upon  another,  with  the  intervals  filled  by  mud  — 
changes  into  a  handsome  wooden  house,  where  he  contrives 
more  convenient,  and  certainly  much  cleaner,  apartments  than 
those  in  the  greatest  part  of  our  small  towns.  This  is  the 
work  of  three  weeks  or  a  month  ;  his  first  habitation,  that  of 
eight  and  forty  hours.  I  shall  be  asked,  perhaps,  how  one 
man  or  one  family  can  be  so  quickly  lodged.  I  answer,  that 
in  America  a  man  is  never  alone,  never  an  isolated  being. 
The  neighbors,  for  they  are  everywhere  to  be  found,  make  it 
a  point  of  hospitality  to  aid  the  new  farmer.  A  cask  of  cider, 
drank  in  common,  and  with  gayety,  or  a  gallon  of  rum,  are  the 
only  recompense  for  these  services. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  NEW-ENGLAND  COLONIES. 

[In  Gen.  Riedesel's  Memoirs,  there  is  a  brief  survey  of  the 
several  parts  of  New  England  visited  by  him,  which  permits 
us  to  see  at  a  glance  how  the  colonies  at  that  day  impressed 
an  intelligent  visitor  as  regards  their  internal  character.] 

In  travelling  through  the  different  provinces  of  North 
America,  one  cannot  help  noticing  the  difference  which  exists 
between  them.  One  sees  in  a  moment  the  genius  of  the 
inhabitants  in  their  mode  of  living  and  culture.  Thus,  in  the 
Province  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  the  inclination  of  the  people 


IO6  NEW  ENGLAND. 

is  for  commerce,  navigation,  and  the  military  art.  The  nume 
rous  Europeans  who  daily  visit  the  harbor  of  Boston  for  the 
purpose  of  trading  have  introduced,  besides  the  new  fashions, 
and  extravagance  in  dress,  a  sort  of  luxurious  and  idle  life. 
Consequently,  agriculture,  as  a  general  thing,  is  poorly 
attended  to.  The  greater  portion,  also,  of  the  inhabitants  in 
the  rural  districts,  either  carry  on  a  small  store,  or  keep  tav 
erns,  whereby  they  make  a  livelihood  without  much  trouble. 
It  is  only  at  the  new  country-seats,  built  by  a  few  wealthy 
Englishmen  about  thirty  years  ago,  that  agriculture  and  horti 
culture  is  properly  attended  to.  The  native l  gets  along  with 
Indian  corn,  cabbage,  potatoes,  and  fruit,  all  of  which  the  rich 
soil  produces  without  much  trouble  on  his  part.  It  would, 
therefore,  not  be  difficult  for  the  inhabitants  to  raise  much 
cattle  ;  but,  as  it  is,  they  get  along  with  salt  pork,  the  animals 
from  which  this  is  made  growing  up  at  large  in  the  woods. 
Many  horses  are  raised,  the  breed  of  which  could  be  greatly 
improved.  The  men  and  women  are  generally  well  formed 
and  of  good  growth  ;  but  the  beauty  of  the  latter  is  of  short 
duration.  They  grow  old  very  early,  and  become  homely. 
The  population  is  large  ;  but  not  many  old  people  are  to  be 
seen.  Most  of  the  males  have  a  strong  passion  for  strong 
drinks,  especially  rum  and  other  alcoholic  beverages.  The 
females  of  all  classes  are  well  educated,  and  can  all  write.  All 
are  fond  of  dress,  and  are  dressed  up  every  day,  even  the 
women  of  the  lower  classes.  They  ride  very  well  on  horse 
back,  love  music  and  dancing,  but  hardly  ever  work.  The 
man  has  to  do  the  housework,  and  wait  upon  his  lady.  The 
women  love  to  domineer ;  and  the  spirit  of  rebellion  is  more 
deeply  rooted  in  their  hearts  than  in  those  of  the  men. 
Besides  the  taste  for  commerce,  the  New-Englander  has  con 
siderable  talent  for  the  military  art.  Industry  they  have  little 
to  do  with,  although  a  few  good  mechanics  are  found  among 
them,  especially  hatters,  tanners,  saddlers,  &c.  The  great 
fault  with  them  is,  that  he  who  has  saved  a  little  by  his  trade 

1  I.e  ,  a  native-born  American. 


A   NEW-ENGLAND  BOYHOOD.  IO/ 

starts  either  a  small  store,  or  seeks   a  position    of  military 
honor.     In  their  own  houses  they  are  cleanly. 

"  The  inhabitants  of  the  Province  of  Connecticut  are  much 
more  industrious  and  diligent.  The  women  dress  more  mod 
estly,  and  are  good  housekeepers.  Agriculture  flourishes  ;  and 
the  breeding  of  cattle  is  a  source  to  them  of  great  wealth. 
The  manufacture  of  linen  and  woollen  goods  is  as  yet  in  its 
infancy.  The  weaving-loom  is  the  pastime  of  the  women, 
even  among  those  who  consider  themselves  of  rank  ;  and  the 
man  of  the  house  considers  it  an  honor  to  wear  cloth  that  has 
been  made  on  his  farm.  Connecticut  furnishes  cattle  and 
corn  to  the  American  army.  The  spirit  of  the  inhabitants  is 
less  military  than  that  of  Massachusetts  Bay  ;  but,  the  theatre 
of  war  being  near  their  lines,  they  are  carried  away,  notwith 
standing  they  love  peace  and  labor  rather  than  war.  Many 
are  loyal,  and  are  therefore  exposed  to  the  persecutions  of  the 
others." 

A  NEW-ENGLAND  BOYHOOD. 

[After  all,  the  interest  in  the  beginning  of  our  history 
attaches  especially  to  those  scenes  and  incidents  which  indi 
cate  the  first  shadowing-forth  of  personal  traits  and  local  ten 
dencies.  In  closing  these  sketches  of  New-England  manners 
and  men,  a  few  passages  may  well  be  taken  from  the  personal 
memoirs  of  one  who  afterward  grew  naturally  into  the  position 
of  a  journalist,  and  one  of  the  first  who  secured  prominence 
in  his  vocation,  —  the  late  Joseph  Tinker  Buckingham.  The 
hard  lines  of  his  childish  life,  and  his  gradual  emergence  into 
a  condition  of  independence  in  a  literary  career,  are  told  by 
him  with  much  pathos  and  life  ;  but  we  have  only  to  do  with 
the  early  years  before  the  close  of  the  last  century.] 

I  was  born  on  the  twenty-first  day  of  December,  1779,  and 
was  the  tenth  in  numerical  order  in  a  family  of  eight  sons  and 
two  daughters.  One  of  the  sons,  and  a  daughter  born  two 
years  after  me,  died  in  infancy.  By  request  of  a  relative  and 
intimate  friend  of  my  mother's,  I  was  baptized  by  the  name  of 
Joseph  Buckingham.1 

1  By  an  act  of  the  legislature  of  Massachusetts,  June,  1804,  he  was  authorized 
to  take  the  surname  of  Buckingham,  his  family  name  being  Tinker. 


108  NEW  ENGLAND. 

At  the  time  of  my  father's  death,  my  eldest  brother  was  at 
sea  in  a  merchant-vessel,  and  my  eldest  sister  was  married. 
My  mother,  with  eight  children,  continued  to  occupy  the  tav 
ern  :  but  the  income  afforded  slender  means  for  the  support 
and  education  of  so  numerous  a  family  ;  and  this  income, 
insufficient  as  it  was,  was  diminished  by  the  expenses  of  an 
unsuccessful  lawsuit,  which  the  administrator  on  my  father's 
estate  prosecuted  against  one  of  the  individuals  who  had 
reaped  the  benefit  of  his  transactions  as  a  contractor  of 
supplies  for  the  army. 

I  have  no  other  recollection  of  my  father  living  than  an 
indistinct  idea  of  sitting  on  his  knee,  and  hearing  him  sing  for 
my  diversion  ;  but,  of  the  father  dead,  the  picture  is  fresh  and 
vivid.  The  sensation  that  I  felt  when  carried  into  the  room 
where  the  body  was  laid  out  in  its  shroud,  I  shall  never  forget. 
The  room  was  darkened  ;  whether  by  the  closing  of  window- 
curtains,  or  by  a  cloudy  atmosphere,  I  cannot  tell.  The  body 
lay  on  a  smooth  board,  which  was  placed  on  a  table.  The 
closed  eye  and  the  pale  lip,  even  the  plaits  on  the  stock 
around  the  neck  (such  as  were  then  worn  by  men,  and  buckled 
on  the  back  of  the  neck),  now  form  as  perfect  an  image  in  my 
memory  as  the  fold  in  the  sheet  of  paper  on  which  I  am  writ 
ing.  Of  the  funeral,  too,  my  recollection  is  almost  as  distinct 
as  the  remembrance  of  the  events  of  the  last  week.  The  bier 
is  standing  before  the  door.  The  coffin  is  placed  on  it,  and 
covered  with  a  black  pall.  A  procession  is  formed,  and  goes 
to  the  meeting-house.  The  bell  tolls.  The  funeral-prayer  is 
said.  The  procession  is  again  formed,  and  proceeds  to  the 
burying-ground.  The  family  crowd  around  the  grave.  The 
coffin  is  laid  in  its  appointed  place.  Mr.  Huntington,  my 
mother's  brother,  takes  me  in  his  arms,  and  holds  me  over  it, 
so  that  I  may  see  the  coffin.  The  earth  is  thrown  upon  it. 
I  hear  the  rattling  of  the  gravel  upon  its  lid.  I  feel  now,  as  I 
have  always  felt  when  I  have  called  up  the  remembrance  of 
this  scene,  the  chill  which  then  curdled  my  blood,  and  the 
fluttering  of  the  heart  that  then  almost  suspended  the  power 
to  breathe. 


A   NEW-ENGLAND  BOYHOOD.  1 09 

The  death  of  my  father,  under  the  circumstances  I  have 
related,  was,  of  course,  but  the  prelude  to  further  domestic 
calamity.  My  mother  was  naturally  of  a  delicate  constitution, 
and  had  been  broken  down  by  frequent  and  severe  attacks  of 
rheumatic  fever.  She  continued,  however,  to  keep  the  tavern 
for  some  months,  perhaps  a  year.  At  length  the  establish 
ment  was  abandoned,  and  the  family  necessarily  dispersed. 
The  second  son  went  to  sea ;  the  next  was  apprenticed  to  a 
saddler ;  the  third  to  a  shoemaker ;  and,  for  the  next  two, 
places  were  provided,  at  which  they  were  supplied  with  "food 
and  clothing  for  such  services  as  they  were  able  to  perform, 
till  they  should  be  of  an  age  suitable  to  go  out  as  apprentices. 
The  furniture  of  the  tavern  was  sold  to  pay  off  debts  ;  and 
my  mother,  with  a  few  articles  indispensable  in  housekeeping, 
and  with  two  young  children  (me  and  a  sister  two  years  older), 
hired  a  couple  of  rooms  in  the  house  which  her  husband  had 
built  in  the  days  of  his  prosperity,  and  which  she  had  once 
expected  to  call  her  own  for  life.  Here,  amidst  occasional 
sickness,  and  constant  destitution  and  sorrow,  she  supported 
her  two  remaining  children  by  the  labor  of  her  hands,  chiefly 
needlework. 

But  the  depth  of  her  destitution  and  distress  she  had  not 
yet  reached.  There  were  still  some  demands  against  her  late 
husband's  estate  pressing  for  payment.  How  long  she  con 
tinued  with  us  in  this  house,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  think  I  could 
not  have  been  more  than  four  years  and  a  half  old,  when 
another  portion  of  her  scanty  stock  of  furniture  was  taken 
from  her  by  an  officer  of  the  law.  With  one  bed,  a  case  of 
drawers,  two  or  three  chairs,  and  a  few  cooking-utensils,  she 
left  the  rooms  she  had  occupied,  and  took  refuge  in  the  adjoin 
ing  building,  which  my  father  had  erected  some  twenty  years 
before  for  a  workshop.  She  held  me  and  my  sister  by  the 
hand,  while  a  constable  sold  at  the  door  the  only  andirons, 
shovel  and  tongs,  chairs,  beds,  table,  &c.,  which  she  had 
reserved  when  she  left  the  tavern  ;  leaving  her  one  bed,  one 
table,  three  chairs,  the  old  case  of  drawers,  a  frying-pan  and 
teakettle,  and  probably  the  articles  absolutely  necessary  to 


1 1 0  NEW  ENGLAND. 

enable  a  woman  and  two  children  to  eat  their  food  with 
decency ;  but  of  this  I  am  not  positive.  I  went  to  a  wheel 
wright's  shop  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  and  gathered 
some  chips  to  build  a  fire  in  our  new  habitation.  The  place 
of  andirons  was  supplied  with  stones  taken  from  the  street ; 
and  the  service  of  shovel  and  tongs  was  performed  by  a  spoke 
from  a  broken  wheel,  —  the  gift  of  our  neighbor  the  wheel 
wright. 

At  this  time  we  had  no  dependence  for  subsistence  but  the 
labor  of  my  mother.  She  was  often  sick,  and  unable  to  work. 
When  in  a  condition  to  labor,  she  was  employed  in  sewing  for 
a  neighbor,  who  was  a  tailor,  or  in  "binding  and  closing" 
women's  shoes,  which  were  then  made  principally  of  cloth,  for 
another  neighbor.  This  was  a  business  in  which  she  was 
expert,  having  done  much  of  it  when  her  husband  carried  on 
the  manufacture.  I  was  sometimes  employed  in  sticking  card- 
teeth  for  a  manufacturer  of  cards.  But,  with  all  these  poor 
resources,  we  must  have  suffered  with  cold  and  hunger  but 
for  the  charity  of  a  few  friends. 

FIRST  SCHOOLING. 

I  have  no  recollection  of  any  time  when  I  could  not  read. 
Probably  I  had  attended  a  school  in  the  summer  after  my 
father's  death  ;  but  of  this  I  have  no  remembrance.  While  we 
were  living  in  this  state  of  abject  poverty,  some  one  gave  me 
a  few  coppers  on  a  training-day,  with  which  I  bought  a  New- 
England  Primer ;  and  no  speculator  who  makes  his  thousands 
by  a  dash  of  the  pen  ever  felt  richer  than  I  did  with  my  pur 
chase.  To  my  mother  I  was  indebted  for  constant  daily 
instruction  ;  and  I  may  say,  without  boasting,  that  her  pupil 
repaid  her  attention,  and  at  this  moment  feels  an  emotion  of 
gratitude  which  time  has  not  destroyed  or  enfeebled.  My 
elder  brothers,  when  they  came  home  to  see  us  (Heavens, 
what  a  home  !)  sometimes  brought  me  a  picture-book  ;  and  I 
was  the  owner  of  "Robinson  Crusoe,"  "Goody  Two-Shoes," 
"  Tom  Thumb,"  and  perhaps  half  a  dozen  other  books  of  a 
similar  character.  I  have  a  confused  idea  of  going  to  a 


A   NEW-ENGLAND  DISTRICT  SCHOOL.       Ill 

woman's  school  in  the  summer  after  I  was  four  years  old  ;  but 
as  the  district  schools  were  then  kept  but  two  months  in  the 
winter,  and  two  in  the  summer,  two  months  was  the  longest 
term  that  I  could  have  attended,  and  probably  I  was  not  there 
half  of  the  time. 

In  December,  1784,  the  month  in  which  I  was  five  years 
old,  I  went  to  a  master's  school ;  and,  on  being  asked  if  I 
could  read,  I  said  I  could  read  in  the  Bible.  The  master 
placed  me  on  his  chair,  and  presented  a  Bible  opened  at  the 
fifth  chapter  of  Acts.  I  read  the  story  of  Ananias  and  Sap- 
phira  falling  down  dead  for  telling  a  lie.  He  patted  me  on  the 
head,  and  commended  my  reading.  It  was  that  winter,  I 
believe,  that  Noah  Webster's  Spelling-Book  was  first  intro 
duced  into  the  schools.  I  could  not  read  with  the  class  to 
which  I  properly  belonged,  because  they  read  from  that  book : 
mine  was  an  old  Dilworth,  and  my  mother  had  not  the  means 
to  buy  a  Webster. 

But  the  instruction  of  my  mother  was  not  confined  alone  to 
teaching  me  to  read.  She  was  a  firm  believer  in  the  doctrines 
of  the  Puritans ;  and  she  took  pains  to  impress  on  my  young 
mind  the  principles  of  the  Westminster  Assembly's  Cate 
chism,  the  whole  of  which  I  could  repeat,  probably  before  I 
had  read  it.  It  was  her  constant  practice  to  pray  with  us 
daily.  In  the  morning,  before  we  ate  our  breakfast,  we  (my 
sister  and  I)  read  each  a  chapter  (or  a  part  of  one)  in  the 
Bible  ;  and  she  always  followed  the  reading  with  a  prayer.  In 
the  evening,  after  she  had  placed  us  in  the  bed  (we  had  but 
one,  and  I  was  placed  at  the  foot),  she  knelt  at  the  bedside, 
and  poured  out  her  heart  to  the  widow's  God,  — sometimes  in 
thankfulness  for  unlooked-for  favors,  and  at  others  in  suppli 
cating  agonies  for  relief,  which  almost  prevented  utterance. 

A  NEW-ENGLAND  DISTRICT  SCHOOL. 

At  the  period  of  which  I  am  writing,  the  district  schools  in 
Connecticut  were  kept  no  more  than  four  months  in  a  year,  — 
two  in  the  winter,  by  a  man  ;  and  two  in  the  summer,  by  a 
woman.  That  which  was  taught  by  the  female  was  for  girls, 


112  NEW  ENGLAND, 

and  for  children  of  both  sexes  who  were  just  learning  the 
alphabet  and  the  first  lessons  in  spelling.  I  had  outgrown 
this  school,  both  in  age  and  acquirement,  and  never  went  to 
a  female  school  or  teacher  after  I  left  my  mother.  The 
schoolhouse  in  our  district  was  more  than  a  mile  from  our 
house  ;  and  during  the  winter  term  the  weather  was  often  cold 
and  boisterous.  I  went  to  school  only  in  pleasant  weather, 
and  never  more  than  half  a  day  at  a  time,  till  the  winter  when 
I  attained  my  fourteenth  year.  Admitting  that  I  went  half 
a  day  on  every  alternate  day  for  the  two  months,  which  is  a 
calculation  that  I  know  exceeds  the  truth,  it  would  amount  to 
no  more  than  twelve  days  in  a  year.  When  I  was  fourteen,  I 
began  to  cipher ;  and  during  that  and  the  next  winter  my 
attendance  at  the  school  was  more  constant,  amounting  in 
the  aggregate,  perhaps,  to  a  couple  of  months.  And  there 
ended  my  education,  as  far  as  schooling  was  concerned.  But 
I  had  the  good-fortune  to  live  with  a  family  where  reading 
and  writing  were  not  deemed  unimportant,  and  where  I 
learned  nearly  as  much  as  boys  of  my  age  who  were  more 
constantly  at  school.  Nothing  but  reading,  writing,  and  arith 
metic  was  then  taught  as  branches  of  common-school  edu 
cation.  Of  geography  I  knew  but  little,  and  of  English 
grammar  nothing,  till  after  I  began  my  apprenticeship.  It 
was  a  blessing  that  I  had  a  disposition  for  reading,  and  that  I 
had  the  privilege  of  indulging  it,  though  the  means  were 
scanty.  The  family  was  a  religious  one.  No  labor,  except 
works  of  absolute  necessity,  was  ever  performed  on  Saturday 
evening  after  sunset.  My  last  exercise  on  this  evening  of 
preparation  for  the  sabbath  was  the  repeating  of  the  West 
minster  Catechism,  and  such  psalms  or  hymns  as  I  might 
have  committed  to  memory  in  the  course  of  the  week. 
There  was  a  time  when  I  could  recite  Watts's  version  of  the 
Psalms  from  beginning  to  end,  together  with  many  of  his 
Hymns  and  Lyric  Poems.  Among  these,  the  "  Indian  Philos 
opher,"  "Few  Happy  Matches,"  ""True  Riches,"  and  "  Happy 
Frailty,"  were  my  favorite  recitations.  The  poem  entitled 
"  God's  Dominion  and  Decrees  "  excited  me  very  much.  It 
contained  this  stanza,  — 


A   NEW-ENGLAND  DISTRICT  SCHOOL.     113 

"  Chained  to  his  throne  a  volume  lies, 
With  all  the  fates  of  men, 
With  every  angel's  form  and  size, 
Drawn  by  the  eternal  pen." 

I  was  greatly  puzzled  to  make  out  the  picture  of  this  volume 
in  my  imagination,  and  was  anxious  to  know  how  Dr.  Watts 
could  have  found  out  what  it  contained,  since  he  afterwards 
said,  — 

"  Not  Gabriel  asks  the  reason  why, 
Nor  God  the  reason  gives  ; 
Nor  dares  the  favorite  angel  pry 
Between  the  folded  leaves." 

But  I  was  still  more  rapt  in  astonishment  on  reading  the 
famous  poem  by  the  Rev.  Michael  Wigglesworth,  entitled 
"  The  Day  of  Doom."  The  representation,  in  that  poem,  of 
the  crowd  of  infants  pleading  for  relief  from  punishment 
for  Adam's  transgression,  caused  me  many  an  hour  of  intense 
mental  agony.  But  I  had  access  for  amusement  (not  on  Sun 
day  or  Saturday  night)  to  another  set  of  works,  such  as  I 
have  never  seen  since,  and  to  which  I  was  indebted  for  much 
useful  instruction.  We  had  on  our  bookshelf  a  regular  file  of 
"Almanacks,"  for  near  or  quite  fifty  years.  Some  of  them 
were  dated  as  far  back  as  1720;  and  some  were  made  by 
"Nathaniel  Ames,  Philomath"  These  periodicals  I  read 
often,  and  with  never-relaxing  interest.  They  contained 
many  fragments  of  history,  scraps  of  poetry,  anecdotes,  epi 
grams,  &c.  One  of  them  had  a  long  poetical  account  of 
Braddock's  defeat.  Others  contained  accounts  of  events 
which  led  to  the  Revolutionary  War.  One,  in  particular, 
made  a  deep  impression  on  my  mind.  The  titlepage  had  on 
it  a  large  picture  of  a  female,  representing  America,  in  a 
recumbent  position,  held  down  by  men,  representing  members 
of  the  British  ministry  ;  while  Lord  North  was  pouring  tea 
down  her  throat  from  an  immense  teapot.  From  his  pocket 
was  represented  as  falling  out  a  roll  of  parchment,  labelled 
"  Boston  Port  Bill."  The  Articles  of  Confederation  between 
the  colonies,  petitions  to  the  king,  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 


114  NEW  ENGLAND. 

pendence,  and  many  other  papers  connected  with  the  history 
and  politics  of  the  country,  were  preserved  in  these  useful 
annuals,  and  afforded  me  ample  food  for  study.  But  what 
excited  my  especial  wonder  was  the  calculations  of  the  eclipses, 
and  prognostications  concerning  the  weather.  To  me  these 
old  periodicals  were  sources  of  delight  and  instruction.  I 
would  now  give  more  for  that  old  file  of  old  almanacs  than 
for  the  most  splendid  of  the  souvenirs  that  modern  taste  and 
skill  can  produce,  merely  to  enjoy  the  reminiscences  and 
associations  which  they  would  awaken. 

A  BOY'S  BOOKS  IN  THE  LAST  CENTURY. 

In  1 794  my  literary  treasure  was  augmented  by  the  addi 
tion  of  "  Gulliver's  Travels,"  "  The  History  of  the  Pirates," 
and  a  larger  edition  of  "  Robinson  Crusoe,"  a  present  from 
my  eldest  brother,  the  captain  of  a  merchant-vessel  trading 
from  Philadelphia  to  the  West  Indies ;  and  again  by  a  pres 
ent  from  another  brother,  a  sailor,  consisting  of  "  The  Vicar 
of  Wakefield,"  "Tristram  Shandy,"  "Tom  Jones,"  "The  Let 
ters  of  Junius,"  the  eighth  volume  of  "  The  Spectator,"  and 
"  The  Book  of  Common  Prayer."  My  library  now  consisted 
of  nearly  twenty  volumes  ;  and  though  it  may  raise  a  smile 
when  I  say  that  these  books  were  an  invaluable  treasure,  to 
a  boy  of  fourteen,  yet  such  was  the  fact.  I  cannot  say  that 
I  read  "  Junius  "  with  as  much  pleasure  as  I  did  "  The  Vicar 
of  Wakefield  ;  "  yet  I  am  vain  enough  to  think  that  I  imbibed, 
even  from  "Junius,"  some  ideas  that  have  not  been  without 
influence  in  later  life.  As  "The  Book  of  Common  Prayer" 
had  no  credit  in  our  family,  or  in  any  other  family  in  the 
town,  it  was  exchanged  with  a  peddler  for  two  pamphlets, — 
Addison's  "  Cato,"  and  "  A  New-Year's  Sermon." 

While  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Welsh,  trained  as  I  was  to 
simple  and  economical  habits,  I  knew  nothing  of  expensive 
pleasures  ;  and,  thus  happily  ignorant,  I  felt  not  the  want  of 
the  means  of  indulgence.  My  visits  to  my  mother,  and  the 
amusements  of  the  class  of  persons  with  whom  I  associated, 
required  no  expenditure  of  money.  Of  what  are  called  "per- 


A   PRINTERS  APPRENTICE.  11$ 

quisites,"  I  had  none  before  I  was  fourteen  years  old.  Then 
I  was  allowed  the  privilege  of  selling  to  a  brushmaker  the 
bristles  that  came  from  the  swine  as  they  were  slaughtered. 
For  a  small  bunch  of  these,  I  received  ninepence  (the  eighth 
of  a  dollar);  and  this  was  the  first  bit  of  silver  that  I 
could  call  mine.  It  was  kept  for  years  as  a  pocket-piece  ;  and, 
when  parted  with,  it  was  to  pay  the  postage  of  a  letter  to  my 
mother.  At  the  same  time,  the  privilege  was  granted  to  me 
of  selling  a  certain  quantity  of  walnuts,  of  which  the  woods 
and  pastures  afforded  a  plentiful  supply.  A  bushel  or  two, 
in  the  autumn  of  1794,  produced  a  sum  sufficient  to  enable 
me  to  buy  a  slate  and  pencil,  Dilworth's  Arithmetic,  and 
the  Second  and  Third  Parts  of  Noah  Webster's  American 
Institute,  the  Grammar,  and  the  Selection  of  Reading-Les 
sons.  Grammar  was  not  then  a  study  in  the  district  schools  ; 
but  I  had  conceived  an  idea  that  the  knowledge  of  it  was  a 
desirable  accomplishment.  I  therefore  undertook  to  study  it 
by  myself.  But  my  ambition  soon  received  a  check.  After  a 
number  of  evenings  spent  in  committing  twenty  or  thirty  pages 
to  memory,  and  confusing  my  head  with  numbers  and  cases, 
modes  and  tenses,  declensions  and  conjugations,  I  discovered 
that  my  attempt  to  learn  without  an  instructor  was  vain  and 
useless  ;  and  my  grammar  was  thrown  aside  as  a  seven-sealed 
book. 

A  PRINTER'S  APPRENTICE. 

In  December,  1795,  my  term  of  service  with  Mr.  Welsh 
expired.  I  had  formed  a  resolution  to  learn  the  trade  of  a 
printer.  Through  the  agency  of  my  brother,  whom  I  looked 
upon  as  a  sort  of  guardian,  a  place  for  me  was  provided  in  the 
office  of  David  Carlisle,  at  Walpole,  N.H. ;  and  there  I  was 
initiated  in  the  mystery  of  type-setting.  My  apprenticeship 
began  on  the  5th  of  March,  1796,  and  owing  to  a  difficulty  in 
accommodating  myself,  with  the  "  steady  habits  "  in  which  I 
had  been  educated  in  Connecticut,  to  the  less  economical  pro 
pensities  of  some  of  the  other  and  older  apprentices,  my 
service  there  was  closed  about  the  beginning  of  September 
following.  During  these  six  months,  I  never  spent  a  happy 


1 1 6  NEW  ENGLAND. 

day.  Two  hours  had  not  elapsed  after  my  entrance  into  the 
office,  before  I  was  called  upon  "to  treat."  I  resisted  the  call 
for  several  days,  but  was  at  length  overcome  by  the  daily  and 
almost  hourly  annoyance  ;  and  more  than  half  of  the  small 
amount  of  money  I  possessed  was  expended  for  brandy,  wine, 
sugar,  eggs,  crackers,  cheese,  &c.  Till  then  my  lips  had 
never  been  in  contact  with  either  of  those  liquors.  Now  I 
was  literally  compelled  to  swallow  them,  distasteful  and  nau 
seous  though  they  were.  I  say  compelled;  for  what  boy  of  six 
teen  could  stand  up  against  the  sneers  and  ribaldry  of  eight  or 
ten  older  ones,  who  laughed  at  his  scruples,  and  reproached 
him  for  his  lack  of  honor  and  manhood  in  having  never  been 
drunk  ?  After  having  "  treated,"  as  I  was  the  youngest  ap 
prentice,  I  was  not  called  upon  for  change  to  buy  the  wine 
and  eggs  which  were  taken  by  my  seniors  three  or  four  morn 
ings  in  a  week  ;  but  it  was  my  lot  to  go  to  the  store  for  these 
articles,  and  to  be  on  the  watch  to  see  if  they  were  not  likely 
to  be  disturbed  by  the  appearance  of  Carlisle.  How  it  hap 
pened  that  I  did  not  acquire  an  appetite  for  intoxicating 
liquors  during  this  period,  I  cannot  tell  ;  for  the  most  irre 
sistible  argument  to  overturn  the  resolution  of  a  young  mind, 
namely,  RIDICULE,  was  constantly  applied.  Whether  I 
should  have  come  off  victorious,  if  I  had  continued  longer 
in  the  place,  is  more  than  I  would  undertake  now  to  assert. 
Of  the  paper  published  by  Carlisle,  and  of  those  who  were  his 
assistants  in  conducting  it,  I  have  elsewhere  written.1 

A  few  days  after  leaving  Walpole,  I  found  myself  in  the 
office  of  Thomas  Dickman,  publisher  of  "The  Greenfield 
Gazette,"  at  Greenfield,  Mass.  The  terms  on  which  I  here 
commenced  anew  my  apprenticeship  were  such  as  would  have 
contented  me,  if  the  business  had  been  more  extensive.  It  was 
agreed  that  I  should  be  paid  five  dollars  a  year  to  supply  me 
with  shoes  (!),  and  that  I  should  be  paid  a  certain  fixed  price 
for  all  the  work  done  over  the  prescribed  daily  task.  The 
difficulty  was,  that,  when  the  stint  was  done,  there  was  no  more 

1  See  Specimens  of  Newspaper  Literature,  vol.  ii.  pp.  174-220. 


A  PRINTER'S  APPRENTICE.  1 1/ 

work  to  do.  Of  course,  I  could  earn  nothing  for  myself  ;  and, 
before  the  first  winter  expired,  my  wardrobe  was  in  a  most 
degenerate  condition.  The  apprentices  (there  were  two  be 
side  me)  had  the  privilege  of  printing  such  small  jobs  as  they 
might  obtain,  without  interfering  with  the  regular  business  of 
the  office  ;  and,  as  we  clubbed  our  labors,  we  not  unfrequently 
gathered  a  few  shillings  by  printing  ballads  and  small  pam 
phlets  for  peddlers,  who  at  that  time  were  tolerably  good 
customers  to  country  printers.1 

Being  the  youngest  apprentice,  it  was  a  part  of  my  duty,  on 
publication  days,  to  distribute  the  "  Gazette "  to  the  sub 
scribers  living  in  the  village,  the  number  of  which  amounted  to 
no  more  than  thirty  or  thirty-five.  According  to  time-indefinite 
custom,  I  had  a  "New-Year's  Address  "  with  which  to  salute 
my  customers.  It  was  written  by  an  acquaintance,  about  my 
own  age,  and  a  clerk  in  a  store  at  Guilford  Vt.2  It  consisted  of 
five  stanzas  of  six  lines  each  ;  but,  though  short,  it  was  rich 
in  patriotic  sentiment,  and  expressions  of  regard  for  the 
patrons  of  the  "  Gazette."  O  Croesus  !  how  mean  and  insig 
nificant  was  thy  grandeur,  how  poor  and  unenvied  thy  treas 
ures,  when  I  compared  (or  might  have  compared)  thy  lot  with 
mine,  when,  on  the  evening  of  the  first  day  of  January,  1797, 
I  counted  my  wealth,  —  six  DOLLARS  AND  SEVENTY-FIVE 
CENTS,  all  in  quarters  and  eighths  of  a  dollar,  —  and  locked 
it  in  my  chest !  Never  before  had  I  been  the  owner  of  so 
much  money ;  never  before  so  rich.  Yet  I  was  sadly  puz 
zled  to  decide  how  I  should  employ  my  cash  ;  for  my  wants 
were  so  numerous,  that  the  amount,  large  as  it  was,  was  alto 
gether  inadequate  to  supply  them.  The  first  appropriation 
was  for  a  new  hat.  The  purchase  of  a  pocket-handkerchief,  a 
cravat,  and  a  pair  of  stockings,  soon  followed,  and  occasioned 
in  my  treasury  a  deficit  of  a  shilling  or  two,  for  which  the 
shopkeeper  civilly  gave  me  a  short  credit.  This  was  the  first 
debt  I  had  contracted.  How  supremely  happy  might  I  have 
been  had  it  been  the  last ! 

1  See  Specimens  of  Newspaper  Literature,  vol.  ii.  pp.  318-425. 
»  The  late  Samuel  Elliot  of  Brattleborough. 


1 1 8  NEW  ENGLA ND. 

In  the  course  of  the  first  year  of  my  apprenticeship  at 
Greenfield,  my  attempt  to  form  an  acquaintance  with  English 
grammar  was  renewed.  I  foresaw  that  it  would  be  useful  to 
me  as  a  printer,  but  indispensable  as  an  editor,  —  a  profes 
sion  to  which  I  looked  forward  as  the  consummation  of  my 
ambition.  I  still  had  my  Webster ;  and  chance  threw  in  my 
way  a  small  treatise  by  Caleb  Alexander.  Curiosity  induced 
me  to  read  a  page  or  two  of  one,  and  then  a  page  or  two  of 
the  other,  to  see  if  they  differed,  and,  if  so,  wherein  the  dif 
ference  consisted.  While  thus  engaged,  a  gleam  of  light 
broke  through  the  dark  cloud  that  had  hitherto  enveloped  this 
intricate  science.  For  some  months,  most  of  my  leisure  hours 
were  spent  in  study ;  but,  as  I  had  no  instructor,  my  progress 
was  not  very  rapid.  It  was  my  usual  practice,  after  I  had 
obtained  some  general  notion  of  what  grammar  was,  to  com 
pare  the  copy  I  had  to  put  in  type  with  the  rules,  and  to  cor 
rect  it  if  it  was  wrong.  Shortly  after  I  adopted  this  exercise, 
it  became  pleasant,  and  even  fascinating.  No  romance  was 
ever  more  interesting  than  this  practice  of  comparing  Noah 
Webster  and  Caleb  Alexander,  noting  their  differences,  and 
forming  a  system  of  my  own,  which  I  had  the  vanity  to 
think  was  better  than  either!  To  this  day  no  species  of 
literary  composition  has  interested  me  more  than  works  of 
philology  and  criticism. 

THE  PRINTING  BUSINESS  IN  BOSTON. 

Soon  after  my  mother's  death,  —  in  August,  1798,  —  Dick- 
man  sold  his  entire  printing  establishment  to  Francis  Barker, 
a  young  man  who  had  served  an  apprenticeship  in  the  office 
of  Messrs.  Thomas  &  Andrews,  Boston.  Not  being  an  in 
dented  apprentice,  I  was  at  liberty  to  seek  my  fortune  where 
I  would,  but  was  content  to  remain  with  Barker  on  the  liberal 
terms  which  he  offered.  Barker  became  dissatisfied  with  his 
position;  and  in  June,  1799,  he  resold  the  establishment  to 
Dickman.  Following  his  advice,  I  resolved  to  seek  a  place  in 
Boston,  where  I  could  obtain  a  more  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  business  of  book-printing,  and  to  avail  myself  of  advan- 


THE  PRINTING  BUSINESS  IN  BOSTON.      1 19 

tages  not  attainable  in  a  small  country  office.  I  left  Green 
field  on  the  4th  of  July,  1799,  w^^  mv  wardrobe  tied  up  in  a 
handkerchief,  and  with  about  forty  cents  in  my  pocket,  and 
walked  to  Northampton.  I  sought  and  obtained  employment 
for  a  few  months  in  the  printing-office  of  Andrew  Wright,  and 
afterwards,  for  a  few  months  more,  in  the  office  of  William 
Butler.  Having  obtained  the  means  of  supplying  some 
necessary  wants,  I  started  for  Boston  ;  and  pursuing  my  way, 
partly  on  foot,  and  sometimes  in  sleighs  when  invited  by  way 
farers  to  ride,  I  completed  my  journey  in  three  days  and  a 
half.  On  the  fourth  day,  which  was  Saturday,  the  8th  of 
February,  1800,  I  arrived  in  Boston,  and  immediately  sought 
employment.  It  was  obtained  before  one  o'clock,  in  the  office 
of  Manning  &  Loring,  who  were  then  the  principal  book- 
printers  in  the  town.  They  were  men  of  strong  religious  ten 
dencies,  and  conscientious  observers  of  all  religious  times  and 
services.  They  were  at  this  time  much  pressed  with  work, — 
orations,  sermons,  and  other  tracts,  occasioned  by  the  death 
of  Gen.  Washington  ;  and  all  hands  worked,  as  requested,  till 
twelve  o'clock,  but  were  not  permitted  to  hold  a  composing- 
stick  in  their  hands  after  the  clock  struck  that  hour. 

The  reminiscences  of  a  journeyman  printer  will  not  be 
esteemed  as  very  valuable  contributions  to  the  literature  of 
the  present  day.  If  written  out  in  fall,  mine  would  be  a 
volume  composed  chiefly  of  notices  of  hard-laboring  contem 
poraries,  of  privations  and  sufferings  that  the  world  knew 
nothing  of,  of  physical  and  mental  toil  by  day  and  by  night, 
which  brought  neither  wealth  nor  reputation  to  the  laborer, 
though  it  transformed  many  an  illiterate  production  into  a 
shape  fit  for  the  public  eye,  which  would  otherwise  have  been 
cast  aside  as  discreditable  to  its  author.  Many  persons  who 
condescend  to  illumine  the  dark  world  with  the  sparklings  of 
their  genius  through  the  columns  of  a  newspaper,  and  others 
who  publish  sermons  and  tracts,  religious,  moral,  and  political, 
little  think  of  the  labor  of  the  printer,  who  (perhaps  near'y 
suffocated  with  the  smoke  of  a  lamp,  and  with  an  aching  head, 
and  eyes  inflamed  and  enfeebled  from  intense  application)  sits 


I2O  NEW  ENGLAND. 

up  till  midnight,  or  till  daylight,  to  correct  his  false  grammar, 
bad  orthography,  and  worse  punctuation.  I  have  seen  the 
arguments  of  lawyers  who  stood  in  high  repute  as  scholars 
sent  to  the  printer  in  their  own  handwriting,  —  chirography 
which  would  defy  the  sagacity  of  the  most  inveterate  investi 
gator  of  ancient  hieroglyphics,  —  abounding  with  technical  and 
foreign  terms  abbreviated,  words  misspelled,  and  few  (or  no) 
points,  and  those  few  entirely  misplaced.  I  have  seen  ser 
mons  of  eminent  scholars  and  "  divines  "  sent  to  the  press 
without  points  or  capitals  to  designate  the  division  of  sen 
tences,  —  sermons  which,  if  published  with  the  imperfections 
of  the  manuscript,  would  be  a  disgrace  to  any  apprentice,  if  he 
were  the  author.  Some  writers  use  no  points  whatever  ;  some 
use  a  comma  for  all  occasions  ;  some  prefer  the  dash,  and 
use  it  in  place  of  all  other  points.  I  once  saw  the  manuscript 
of  a  sermon  in  the  hands  of  a  printer,  which  was  entirely  with 
out  points,  and  every  line  began  with  a  capital  letter,  as  if  it 
had  been  poetry.  Suppose  these  productions  had  been  printed 
as  they  were  written.  The  disgrace  would  have  fallen  upon 
the  printer.  He  would  have  been  called  an  illiterate  block 
head,  better  fitted  for  a  wood-sawyer  than  a  printer  ;  and  the 
author  would  still  enjoy  his  reputation  as  a  scholar,  and 
receive  the  sympathy  of  his  readers  as  a  man  injured  by  the 
printer's  ignorance.  Nobody  would  believe  that  such  gross 
and  palpable  faults  were  owing  to  the  carelessness  of  the 
author ;  and  no  one  but  a  practical  printer  knows  how  many 
hours  a  compositor,  and  after  him  a  proof-reader,  is  com 
pelled  to  spend  in  reducing  to  a  readable  condition  manu 
scripts  which  the  writers  themselves  would  be  puzzled  to  read 
with  propriety. 

After  an  experience  of  more  than  fifty  years,  I  "  hold  this 
truth  to  be  self-evident,"  that  there  is  no  class  of  working- 
men  so  poorly  paid  as  printers.  For  one  who  makes  himself 
rich  by  printing,  disconnected  with  the  business  of  publishing, 
fifty  barely  live  above  poverty,  and  die  in  the  possession  of 
little  more  than  enough  to  pay  the  joiner  for  a  coffin,  and  the 
sexton  for  a  grave.  This  is,  or  was,  peculiarly  the  lot  of 


THE  PRINTING  BUSINESS  IN  BOSTON.      121 

journeymen.  There  are  probably  not  many  in  the  large  towns 
who  have  not  been  called  on,  some  time  in  the  course  of  their 
lives,  to  contribute  a  portion  of  their  earnings  for  the  relief  of 
a  sick  brother  and  his  family,  or  to  pay  the  expenses  of  his 
funeral.  I  know  it  may  be  said  —  for  it  has  often  been  said, 
—  that  journeymen  printers  are  improvident,  addicted  to  ex 
pensive  pleasures,  and  indulge  in  hurtful  and  destructive 
habits.  I  do  not  deny  that  they  have  their  faults,  and  are 
subject  to  the  same  propensities  as  other  men.  Let  it  be 
admitted  that  individual  cases  of  poverty  and  sickness  have 
been  produced  by  improper  and  even  vicious  indulgence  :  still 
I  deny,  that,  as  a  class,  they  are  obnoxious  to  the  reproachful 
charge.  They  were  not  forty  or  fifty  years  ago  ;  nor  do  I  be 
lieve  they  are  now.  Yet,  forty  or  fifty  years  ago,  indulgence 
in  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks  was  much  more  prevalent 
than  it  is  at  the  present  day.  It  was  not  then  discreditable, 
even  to  men  of  much  higher  pretensions  to  notoriety  than 
journeymen  printers,  to  be  a  little  mellow  ;  and  they  were 
known  to  take  bitters  in  the  morning  before  breakfast,  flip  or 
punch  at  eleven  o'clock,  brandy  before  dinner,  and  wine  after 
it,  and  repeated  till  bedtime,  as  taste,  habit,  or  opportunity 
could  authorize.  Such  liberality  no  printer,  especially  no 
journeyman,  could  afford  to  practise. 


NEW  YORK  AND   THE  JERSEYS. 


THE  TOWN  OF  ALBANY. 

||RS.  GRANT  of  Laggan,  whose  "  Memoirs  of  an 
American  Lady  "  form  the  principal  source  of  our 
information  of  the  manners  and  social  customs  of 
the  old  New  York  families  just  previous  to  the 
Revolution,  has  introduced  her  volume  with  an  account  of 
the  Dutch  settlement  of  the  Hudson  River ;  and  as  her  own 
observation  was  largely  of  the  life  at  the  upper  settlement, 
as  it  was  called,  of  Albany,  she  gives  a  somewhat  minute 
description  of  the  place  and  its  inhabitants,  from  which  we 
take  the  following.] 

The  city  of  Albany  stretched  along  the  banks  of  the  Hud 
son  :  one  very  wide  and  iong  street  lay  parallel  to  the  river, 
the  intermediate  space  between  it  and  the  shore  being  occu 
pied  by  gardens.  A  small  but  steep  hill  rose  above  the  centre 
of  the  town,  on  which  stood  a  fort,  intended  (but  very  ill 
adapted)  for  the  defence  of  the  place  and  of  the  neighboring 
country.  From  the  foot  of  this  hill,  another  street  was  built, 
sloping  pretty  rapidly  down,  till  it  joined  the  one  before  men 
tioned,  that  ran  along  the  river.  This  street  was  still  wider 
than  the  other :  it  was  only  paved  on  each  side,  the  middle 
being  occupied  by  public  edifices.  These  consisted  of  a 
market-place,  or  guard-house,  a  town-hall,  and  the  English 
and  Dutch  churches.  The  English  church,  belonging  to  the 
Episcopal  persuasion,  and  in  the  diocese  of  the  Bishop  of  Lon- 


THE   TOWN  OF  ALBANY.  .       12$ 

don,  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
street.  The  Dutch  church  was  situated  at  the  bottom  of  the 
descent,  where  the  street  terminated  :  two  irregular  streets, 
not  so  broad,  but  equally  long,  ran  parallel  to  those,  and  a 
few  even  ones  opened  between  them.  The  town,  in  propor 
tion  to  its  population,  occupied  a  great  space  of  ground.  This 
city,  in  short,  was  a  kind  of  semi-rural  establishment.  Every 
house  had  its  garden,  well,  and  a  little  green  behind  :  before 
every  door,  a  tree  was  planted,  rendered  interesting  by  being 
coeval  with  some  beloved  member  of  the  family.  Many  of 
their  trees  were  of  a  prodigious  size  and  extraordinary  beauty, 
but  without  regularity,  every  one  planting  the  kind  that  best 
pleased  him,  or  which  he  thought  would  afford  the  most 
agreeable  shade  to  the  open  portico  at  his  door,  which  was 
surrounded  by  seats,  and  ascended  by  a  few  steps.  It  was 
in  these  that  each  domestic  group  was  seated  in  summer 
evenings  to  enjoy  the  balmy  twilight  or  the  serenely  clear 
moonlight.  Each  family  had  a  cow,  fed  in  a  common  pas 
ture  at  the  end  of  the  town.  In  the  evening  the  herd  returned 
all  together,  of  their  own  accord,  with  their  tinkling  bells 
hung  at  their  necks,  along  the  wide  and  grassy  street,  to 
their  wonted  sheltering  trees,  to  be  milked  at  their  masters' 
doors.  Nothing  could  be  more  pleasing  to  a  simple  and 
benevolent  mind  than  to  see  thus,  at  one  view,  all  the  inhabit 
ants  of  a  town,  which  contained  not  one  very  rich  or  very 
poor,  very  knowing  or  very  -ignorant,  very  rude  or  very  pol 
ished  individual,  — to  see  all  these  children  of  Nature  enjoying 
in  easy  indolence,  or  social  intercourse, 

"  The  cool,  the  fragant,  and  the  dusky  hour," 

clothed  in  the  plainest  habits,  and  with  minds  as  undisguised 
and  artless.  These  primitive  beings  were  dispersed  in 
porches,  grouped  according  to  similarity  of  years  and  inclina 
tions.  At  one  door  were  young  matrons  ;  at  another,  the 
elders  of  the  people  ;  at  a  third,  the  youths  and  maidens,  gayiy 
chatting  or  singing  together  ;  while  the  children  played  round 


124  NEW  YORK  AND   THE  JERSEYS. 

the  trees,  or  waited  by  the  cows  for  the  chief  ingredient  of 
their  frugal  supper,  which  they  generally  ate  sitting  on  the 
steps  in  the  open  air.  This  picture,  so  familiar  to  my  imagi 
nation,  has  le'd  me  away  from  my  purpose,  which  was  to 
describe  the  rural  economy  and  modes  of  living  in  this  patri 
archal  city. 

THE  NEIGHBORHOOD. 

At  one  end  of  the  town,  as  I  observed  before,  was  a  com 
mon  pasture,  where  all  the  cattle  belonging  to  the  inhabitants 
grazed  together.  A  never-failing  instinct  guided  each  home 
to  her  master's  door  in  the  evening,  where,  being  treated  with 
a  few  vegetables  and  a  little  fat,  which  is  indispensably  neces 
sary  for  cattle  in  this  country,  they  patiently  waited  the 
night ;  and,  after  being  milked  in  the  morning,  they  went  off 
in  slow  and  regular  procession  to  the  pasture.  At  the  other 
end  of  the  town  was  a  fertile  plain  along  the  river,  three  miles 
in  length,  and  near  a  mile  broad.  This  was  all  divided  into 
lots,  where  every  inhabitant  raised  Indian  corn  sufficient  for 
the  food  of  two  or  three  slaves  (the  greatest  number  that  each 
family  ever  possessed),  and  for  his  horses,  pigs,  and  poultry  : 
their  flour  and  other  grain  they  purchased  from  farmers  in  the 
vicinity.  Above  the  town,  a  long  stretch  to  the  westward 
was  occupied  first  by  sandy  hills,  on  which  grew  bilberries 
of  uncommon  size  and  flavor,  in  prodigious  quantities  ;  be 
yond,  rise  heights  of  a  poor,  hungry  soil,  thinly  covered  with 
stunted  pines  or  dwarf  oak.  Yet  in  this  comparatively  bar 
ren  tract  there  were  several  wild  and  picturesque  spots,  where 
small  brooks,  running  in  deep  and  rich  bottoms,  nourished  on 
their  banks  every  vegetable  beauty  :  there  some  of  the  most 
industrious  early  settlers  had  cleared  the  luxuriant  wood  from 
these  charming  glens,  and  built  neat  cottages  for  their  slaves, 
surrounded  with  little  gardens  and  orchards,  sheltered  from 
every  blast,  wildly  picturesque,  and  richly  productive.  Those 
small,  sequestered  vales  had  an  attraction  that  I  know  not 
how  to  describe,  and  which  probably  resulted  from  the  air  of 
deep  repose  that  reigned  there,  and  the  strong  contrast  which 
they  exhibited  to  the  surrounding  sterility.  One  of  these 


EARLY  HABITS  OF  THE  ALBANIANS.        12$ 

was  in  my  time  inhabited  by  a  hermit.  He  was  a  French 
man,  and  did  not  seem  to  inspire  much  veneration  among  the 
Albanians.  They  imagined,  or  had  heard,  that  he  retired 
to  that  solitude  in  remorse  for  some  fatal  duel  in  which  he 
had  been  engaged  ;  and  considered  him  as  an  idolater,  be 
cause  he  had  an  image  of  the  Virgin  in  his  hut.  I  think  he 
retired  to  Canada  at  last ;  but  I  remember  being  ready  to 
worship  him  for  the  sanctity  with  which  my  imagination 
invested  him,  and  being  cruelly  disappointed  because  I  was 
not  permitted  to  visit  him.  These  cottages  were  in  summer 
occupied  by  some  of  the  negroes,  who  cultivated  the  grounds 
about  them,  and  served  as  a  place  of  joyful  liberty  to  the  chil 
dren  of  the  family  on  holidays,  and  as  a  nursery  for  the 
young  negroes,  whom  it  was  the  custom  to  rear  very  tenderly, 
and  instruct  very  carefully. 

EDUCATION  AND  EARLY  HABITS  OF  THE  ALBANIANS. 

The  foundations  both  of  friendship  and  still  tenderer  at 
tachments  were  here  laid  very  early  by  an  institution  which 
I  always  thought  had  been  peculiar  to  Albany  till  I  found,  in 
Dr.  Moore's  "  View  of  Society  on  the  Continent,"  an  account 
of  a  similar  custom  subsisting  in  Geneva.  The  children  of 
the  town  were  all  divided  into  companies,  as  they  called  them, 
from  five  or  six  years  of  age,  till  they  became  marriageable. 
How  those  companies  first  originated,  or  what  were  their  exact 
regulations,  I  cannot  say  ;  though  I,  belonging  to  none,  occa 
sionally  mixed  with  several,  yet  always  as  a  stranger,  not 
withstanding  that  I  spoke  their  current  language  fluently. 
Every  company  contained  as  many  boys  as  girls.  But  I  do 
not  know  that  there  was  any  limited  number  :  only  this  I  re 
collect,  that  a  boy  and  girl  of  each  company,  who  were  older, 
cleverer,  or  had  some  other  pre-eminence  above  the  rest, 
were  called  heads  of  the  company,  and  as  such  were  obeyed 
by  the  others.  Whether  they  were  voted  in,  or  attained  their 
pre-eminence  by  a  tacit  acknowledgment  of  their  superiority, 
I  know  not ;  but,  however  it  was  attained,  it  was  never  dis 
puted.  The  company  of  little  children  had  also  their  heads. 


126  NEW  YORK  AND   THE  JERSEYS. 

All  the  children  of  the  same  age  were  not  in  one  company. 
There  were  at  least  three  or  four  of  equal  ages,  who  had  a 
strong  rivalry  with  each  other  ;  and  children  of  different  ages, 
in  the  same  family,  belonged  to  different  companies.  Wherever 
there  is  human  nature,  there  will  be  a  degree  of  emulation, 
strife,  and  a  desire  to  lower  others,  that  we  may  exalt  our 
selves.  Dispassionate  as  my  friends  comparatively  were, 
and  bred  up  in  the  highest  attainable  candor  and  innocence, 
they  regarded  the  company  most  in  competition  with  their 
own  with  a  degree  of  jealous  animosity.  Each  company,  at 
a  certain  time  of  the  year,  went  in  a  body  to  gather  a  particu 
lar  kind  of  berries,  to  the  hill.  It  was  a  sort  of  annual  fes 
tival,  attended  with  religious  punctuality.  Every  company 
had  a  uniform  for  this  purpose  ;  that  is  to  say,  very  pretty 
light  baskets  made  by  the  Indians,  with  lids  and  handles, 
which  hung  over  the  arm,  and  were  adorned  with  various 
colors.  One  company  would  never  allow  the  least  degree  of 
taste  to  the  other  in  this  instance,  and  was  sure  to  vent  its 
whole  stock  of  spleen  in  decrying  the  rival  baskets.  Nor 
would  they  ever  admit  that  the  rival  company  gathered  near 
so  much  fruit  on  these  excursions  as  they  did.  The  parents 
of  these  children  seemed  very  much  to  encourage  this  man 
ner  of  marshalling  and  dividing  themselves.  Every  child  was 
permitted  to  entertain  the  whole  company  on  its  birthday, 
and  once  besides,  during  winter  and  spring.  The  master  and 
mistress  of  the  family  always  were  bound  to  go  from  home 
on  these  occasions  ;  while  some  old  domestic  was  left  to  attend 
and  watch  over  them,  with  an  ample  provision  of  tea,  choco 
late,  preserved  and  dried  fruits,  nuts,  and  cakes  of  various 
kinds,  to  which  was  added  cider,  or  a  sillabub  ;  for  these 
young  friends  met  at  four,  and  did  not  part  till  nine  or  ten,  and 
amused  themselves  with  the  utmost  gayety  and  freedom  in  any 
way  their  fancy  dictated.  I  speak  from  hearsay  ;  for  no  per 
son  that  does  not  belong  to  the  company  is  ever  admitted  to 
these  meetings.  Other  children  or  young  people  visit  occasion 
ally,  and  are  civilly  treated  ;  but  they  admit  of  no  intimacies 
beyond  their  company.  The  consequence  of  these  exclusive 


AMUSEMENTS.  1 2  / 

and  early  intimacies  was,  that,  grown  up,  it  was  reckoned  a 
sort  of  apostasy  to  marry  out  of  one's  company,  and,  indeed, 
it  did  not  often  happen.  The  girls,  from  the  example  of  their 
mothers,  rather  than  any  compulsion,  very  early  became 
notable  and  industrious,  being  constantly  employed  in  knitting 
stockings,  and  making  clothes  for  the  family  and  slaves: 
they  even  made  all  the  boys'  clothes.  This  was  the  more 
necessary,  as  all  articles  of  clothing  were  extremely  dear. 
Though  all  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  some  luxuries, 
abounded,  money,  as  yet,  was  a  scarce  commodity.  This 
industry  was  the  more  to  be  admired,  as  children  were  here 
indulged  to  a  degree,  that,  in  our  vitiated  state  of  society, 
would  have  rendered  them  good  for  nothing. 

The  children  returned  the  fondness  of  their  parents  with 
such  tender  affection,  that  they  feared  giving  them  pain  as 
much  as  ours  do  punishment,  and  very  rarely  wounded  their 
feelings  by  neglect  or  rude  answers.  Yet  the  boys  were 
often  wilful  and  giddy  at  a  certain  age,  the  girls  being  sooner 
tamed  and  domesticated. 

These  youths  were  apt,  whenever  they  could  carry  a  gun 
(which  they  did  at  a  very  early  period),  to  follow  some  favor 
ite  negro  to  the  woods,  and,  while  he  was  employed  in  felling 
trees,  to  range  the  whole  day  in  search  of  game,  to  the  neg 
lect  of  all  intellectual  improvement ;  and  they  thus  contracted 
a  love  of  savage  liberty  which  might,  and  in  some  instances 
did,  degenerate  into  licentious  and  idle  habits.  Indeed,  there 
were  three  stated  periods  in  the  year,  when  for  a  few  days 
young  and  old,  masters  and  slaves,  were  abandoned  to  unruly 
enjoyment,  and  neglected  every  serious  occupation  for  pur 
suits  of  this  nature. 

AMUSEMENTS. 

Before  I  quit  the  subject  of  Albanian  manners,  I  must 
describe  their  amusements,  and  some  other  peculiarities  in 
their  modes  of  life.  When  I  say  their  amusements,  I  mean 
those  in  which  they  differed  from  most  other  people.  Such 
as  they  had  in  common  with  others  require  no  description. 
They  were  exceedingly  social,  and  visited  each  other  very 


128  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

frequently,  besides  the  regular  assembling  together  in  their 
porches  every  fine  evening.  Of  the  more  substantial  luxuries 
of  the  table  they  knew  little,  and  of  the  formal  and  ceremo 
nious  parts  of  good  breeding  still  less. 

If  you  went  to  spend  a  day  anywhere,  you  were  received 
in  a  manner  we  should  think  very  cold.  No  one  rose  to  wel 
come  you :  no  one  wondered  you  had  not  come  sooner,  or 
apologized  for  any  deficiency  in  your  entertainment.  Dinner, 
which  was  very  early,  was  served  exactly  in  the  same  manner 
as  if  there  were  only  the  family.  The  house  indeed  was  so 
exquisitely  neat  and  veil  regulated,  that  you  could  not  sur 
prise  these  people :  they  saw  each  other  so  often  and  so 
easily,  that  intimates  made  no  difference.  Of  strangers  they 
were  shy;  not  by  any  means  from  want  of  hospitality,  but 
from  a  consciousness  that  people  who  had  little  to  value  them 
selves  on  but  their  knowledge  of  the  modes  and  ceremonies 
of  polished  life  disliked  their  sincerity,  and  despised  their 
simplicity.  If  you  showed  no  insolent  wonder,  but  easily  and 
quietly  adopted  their  manners,  you  would  receive  from  them 
not  only  very  great  civility,  but  much  essential  kindness. 
Whoever  has  not  common  sense  and  common  gratitude 
enough  to  pay  this  tribute  of  accommodation  to  those  among 
whom  he  is  destined  for  the  time  to  live  must,  of  course,  be 
an  insulated,  discontented  being,  and  come  home  railing  at 
the  people  whose  social  comforts  he  disdained  to  partake. 
After  sharing  this  plain  and  unceremonious  dinner,  which 
might,  by  the  by,  chance  to  be  a  very  good  one,  but  was  in 
variably  that  which  was  meant  for  the  family,  tea  was  served 
in  at  a  very  early  hour.  And  here  it  was  that  the  distinction 
shown  to  strangers  commenced.  Tea  here  was  a  perfect 
regale,  being  served  up  with  various  sorts  of  cakes  unknown 
to  us,  cold  pastry,  and  great  quantities  of  sweetmeats  and 
preserved  fruits  of  various  kinds,  and  plates  of  hickory  and 
other  nuts  ready  cracked.  In  all  manner  of  confectionery 
and  pastry  these  people  excelled ;  and  having  fruit  in  great 
plenty,  which  cost  them  nothing,  and  getting  sugar  home  at 
an  easy  rate,  in  return  for  their  exports  to  the  West  Indies, 


RURAL  EXCURSIONS.  1 29 

the  quantity  ol  these  articles  used  in  families  otherwise  plain 
and  frugal  was  astonishing.  Tea  was  never  unaccompanied 
with  one  of  these  petty  articles ;  but  for  strangers  a  great 
display  was  made.  If  you  staid  supper,  you  were  sure  of  a 
most  substantial  though  plain  one.  In  this  meal,  they  de 
parted,  out  of  compliment  to  the  strangers,  from  their  usual 
simplicity.  Having  dined  between  twelve  and  one,  you  were 
quite  prepared  for  it.  You  had  either  game  or  poultry  roasted, 
and  always  shellfish  in  the  season :  you  had  also  fruit  in 
abundance.  All  this  with  much  neatness,  but  no  form.  The 
seeming  coldness  with  which  you  were  first  received  wore  off 
by  degrees.  They  could  not  accommodate  their  topics  to 
you,  and  scarcely  attempted  it.  But  the  conversation  of  the 
old,  though  limited  in  regard  to  subjects,  was  rational  and 
easy,  and  had  in  it  an  air  of  originality  and  truth  not  without 
its  attractions.  That  of  the  young  was  natural  and  playful, 
yet  full  of  localities,  which  lessened  its  interest  to  a  stranger, 
but  were  extremely  amusing  when  you  became  one  of  the 
initiated. 

RURAL  EXCURSIONS. 

Their  diversions  (I  mean  those  of  the  younger  class)  were 
marked  by  a  simplicity  which  to  strangers  appeared  rude 
and  childish.  In  spring,  eight  or  ten  of  one  company,  or  re 
lated  to  each  other,  young  men  and  maidens,  would  set  out 
together  in  a  canoe  on  a  kind  of  rural  excursion,  of  which 
amusement  was  the  object.  Yet  so  fixed  were  their  habits 
of  industry,  that  they  never  failed  to  carry  their  work-baskets 
with  them,  not  as  a  form,  but  as  an  ingredient  necessarily 
mixed  with  their  pleasures.  They  went  without  attendants, 
and  steered  a  devious  course  of  four,  five,  or  perhaps  more 
miles,  till  they  arrived  at  some  of  the  beautiful  islands  with 
which  this  fine  river  abounded,  or  at  some  sequestered  spot 
on  its  banks,  where  delicious  wild  fruits,  or  particular  conve 
niences  for  fishing,  afforded  some  attraction.  There  they 
generally  arrived  by  nine  or  ten  o'clock,  having  set  out  in  the 
cool  and  early  hour  of  sunrise.  Often  they  met  another  party, 
going,  perhaps,  to  a  different  place,  and  joined  them,  or  in- 
9 


ISO  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

duced  them  to  take  their  route.  A  basket  with  tea,  sugar, 
and  the  other  usual  provisions  for  breakfast,  with  the  appa 
ratus  for  cooking  it,  a  little  rum  and  fruit  for  making  cool, 
weak  punch  (the  usual  beverage  in  the  middle  of  the  day),  and 
now  and  then  some  cold  pastry,  were  the  sole  provisions  ;  for 
the  great  affair  was  to  depend  on  the  sole  exertions  of  the 
boys  in  procuring  fish,  wild  ducks,  £c.,  for  their  dinner.  They 
were  all,  like  Indians,  ready  and  dexterous  with  the  axe,  gun, 
&c.  Whenever  they  arrived  at  their  destination,  they  sought 
out  a  dry  and  beautiful  spot  opposite  to  the  river,  and  in  an 
instant,  with  their  axes,  cleared  so  much  superfluous  shade 
or  shrubbery  as  left  a  semicircular  opening,  above  which  they 
bent  and  twined  the  boughs  so  as  to  form  a  pleasant  bower ; 
while  the  girls  gathered  dried  branches,  to  which  one  of  the 
youths  soon  set  fire  with  gunpowder;  and  the  breakfast,  a 
very  regular  and  cheerful  one,  occupied  an  hour  or  two.  The 
young  men  then  set  out  to  fish,  or  perhaps  to  shoot  birds ; 
and  the  maidens  sat  busily  down  to  their  work,  singing  and 
conversing  with  all  the  ease  and  gayety  which  the  benign 
serenity  of  the  atmosphere,  and  the  beauty  of  the  surrounding 
scene,  were  calculated  to  inspire.  After  the  sultry  hours  had 
been  thus  employed,  the  boys  brought  their  tribute  from  the 
river  or  the  wood,  and  found  a  rural  meal  prepared  by  their 
fair  companions,  among  whom  were  generally  their  sisters 
and  the  chosen  of  their  hearts.  After  dinner  they  all  set  out 
together  to  gather  wild  strawberries,  or  whatever  other  fruit 
was  in  season ;  for  it  was  accounted  a  reproach  to  come  home 
empty  handed.  When  weary  of  this  amusement,  they  either 
drank  tea  in  their  bower,  or,  returning,  landed  at  some  friend's 
on  the  way,  to  partake  of  that  refreshment.  Here,  indeed, 

"Youth's  free  spirit,  innocently  gay, 
Enjoyed  the  most  that  innocence  could  give." 

Another  of  their  summer  amusements  was  going  to  the 
Bush,  which  was  thus  managed :  a  party  of  young  people  set 
out  in  little  open  carriages,  something  in  the  form  of  a  gig,  of 
which  every  family  had  one.  Every  one  carried  something 


RURAL  EXCURSIONS.  \^\ 

with  him,  as  in  these  cases  there  was  no  hunting  to  furnish 
provision.  One  brought  wine  for  negus;  another,  tea  and 
coffee  of  a  superior  quality ;  a  third,  a  pigeon-pie  :  in  short, 
every  one  brought  something,  no  matter  how  trifling ;  for  there 
was,  no  emulation  about  the  extent  of  the  contribution.  In 
this  same  Bush  there  were  spots  to  which  the  poorer  members 
of  the  community  retired,  to  work  their  way  with  patient 
industry  through  much  privation  and  hardship,  compared  to 
the  plenty  and  comfort  enjoyed  by  the  rest.  They,  perhaps, 
could  only  afford  to  have  one  negro  woman,  whose  children, 
as  they  grew  up,  became  to  their  master  a  source  of  plenty 
and  ease.  But,  in  the  mean  time,  the  goodman  wrought  hard 
himself,  having  a  little  occasional  aid  sent  him  by  his 
friends.  He  had  plenty  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  but  no  lux 
uries.  His  wife  and  daughters  milked  the  cows,  and  wrought 
at  the  hay ;  and  his  house  was  on  a  smaller  scale  than  the 
older  settlers  had  theirs  :  yet  he  had  always  one  neatly  furnished 
room,  a  very  clean  house  with  a  pleasant  portico  before  it, 
generally  a  fine  stream  beside  his  dwelling,  and  some  Indian 
wigwams  near  it.  He  was  wood-surrounded,  and  seemed  ab 
solutely  to  live  in  the  bosom  of  Nature,  screened  from  all  the 
artificial  ills  of  life ;  and  those  spots,  cleared  of  encumbrances, 
yet  rich  in  native  luxuriance,  had  a  wild  originality  about  them 
not  easily  described.  The  young  parties,  or  sometimes  the 
elder  ones,  who  set  out  on  this  woodland  excursion,  had  no 
fixed  destination.  They  travelled  generally  in  the  forenoon, 
and,  when  they  were  tired  of  going  on  the  ordinary  road, 
turned  into  the  Bush ;  and  whenever  they  saw  an  inhabited 
spot  with  the  appearance  of  which  they  were  pleased,  they 
went  in  with  all  the  ease  of  intimacy,  and  told  them  they  were 
come  to  spend  the  afternoon  there.  The  good  people,  not  in 
the  least  surprised  at  this  intrusion,  very  calmly  opened  the 
reserved  apartments,  or,  if  it  were  very  hot,  received  them  in 
the  portico.  The  guests  produced  their  stores;  and  they 
boiled  their  teakettle,  and  provided  cream,  nuts,  or  any  pe 
culiar  dainty  of  the  woods  which  they  chanced  to  have ;  and 
they  always  furnished  bread  and  butter,  which  were  excellent 


132  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

in  their  kinds.  They  were  invited  to  share  the  collation, 
which  they  did  with  great  ease  and  frankness ;  then  dancing, 
or  any  other  amusement  that  struck  their  fancy,  succeeded. 
They  sauntered  about  the  bounds  in  the  evening,  and  returned 
by  moonlight.  These  good  people  felt  not  the  least  embar 
rassed  at  the  rustic  plainness  of  every  thing  about  them. 
They  considered  themselves  as  in  the  way,  after  a  little  longer 
exertion  of  patient  industry,  to  have  every  thing  that  the 
others  had ;  and  their  guests  thought  it  an  agreeable  variety 
in  this  abrupt  manner  to  visit  their  sequestered  abodes. 

WINTER  AMUSEMENTS. 

In  winter  the  river,  frozen  to  a  great  depth,  formed  the 
principal  road  through  the  country,  and  was  the  scene  of  all 
those  amusements  of  skating  and  sledge  races  common  to  the 
north  of  Europe.  They  used,  in  great  parties,  to  visit  their 
friends  at  a  distance  ;  and,  having  an  excellent  and  hardy  breed 
of  horses,  flew  from  place  to  place  over  the  snow  or  ice  in 
these  sledges  with  incredible  rapidity,  stopping  a  little  while 
at  every  house  they  came  to,  where  they  were  always  well 
received,  whether  acquainted  with  the  owners  or  not.  The 
night  never  impeded  these  travellers ;  for  the  atmosphere  was 
so  pure  and  serene,  and  the  snow  so  reflected  the  moon  and 
starlight,  that  the  nights  exceeded  the  days  in  beauty. 

In  town  all  the  boys  were  extravagantly  fond  of  a. diversion 
that  to  us  would  appear  a  very  odd  and  childish  one.  The 
great  street  of  the  town,  in  the  midst  of  which,  as  has  been 
formerly  mentioned,  stood  all  the  churches  and  public  build 
ings,  sloped  down  from  the  hill  on  which  the  fort  stood, 
towards  the  river.  Between  the  buildings  was  an  unpaved 
carriage-road ;  the  footpath  beside  the  houses  being  the  only 
part  of  the  street  which  was  paved.  In  winter  this  sloping 
descent,  continued  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  acquired 
firmness  from  the  frost,  and  became  extremely  slippery. 
Then  the  amusement  commenced.  Every  boy  and  youth  in 
town,  from  eight  to  eighteen,  had  a  little  low  sledge,  made 
with  a  rope  like  a  bridle  to  the  front,  by  which  one  could  drag 


FASHIONABLE  PIG-STEALING.  133 

it  by  the  hand.  On  this  one  or  two,  at  most,  could  sit ;  and 
the  sloping  descent  being  made  as  smooth  as  a  looking-glass 
by  sliders'  sledges,  &c.,  perhaps  a  hundred  at  once  set  out  in 
succession  from  the  top  of  the  street,  each  seated  in  his  little 
sledge,  with  the  rope  in  his  hand,  which,  drawn  to  the  right 
or  left,  served  to  guide  him.  He  pushed  it  off  with  a  little 
stick,  as  one  would  launch  a  boat ;  and  then,  with  the  most 
astonishing  velocity,  precipitated  by  the  weight  of  the  owner, 
the  little  machine  glided  past,  and  was  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
street  in  an  instant.  What  could  be  so  peculiarly  delightful 
in  this  rapid  and  smooth  descent,  I  could  never  discover,  — 
yet  in  a  more  retired  place,  and  on  a  smaller  scale,  I  have 
tried  the  amusement,  —  but,  to  a  young  Albanian,  sleighing, 
as  he  called  it,  was  one  of  the  first  joys  of  life,  though  at 
tended  with  the  drawback  of  dragging  his  sledge  to  the  top 
of  the  declivity  every  time  he  renewed  his  flight,  for  such  it 
might  well  be  called.  In  the  managing  this  little  machine, 
some  dexterity  was  necessary :  an  unskilful  phaeton  was  sure 
to  fall.  The  vehicle  was  so  low,  that  a  fall  was  attended  with 
little  danger,  yet  with  much  disgrace ;  for  a  universal  laugh 
from  all  sides  assailed  the  fallen  charioteer.  This  laugh  was 
from  a  very  full  chorus  ;  for  the  constant  and  rapid  succession 
of  the  train,  where  every  one  had  a  brother,  lover,  or  kins 
man,  brought  all  the  young  people  in  town  to  the  porticos, 
where  they  used  to  sit  wrapped  in  furs  till  ten  or  eleven  at 
night,  engrossed  by  the  delectable  spectacle.  What  magical 
attraction  it  could  possibly  have,  I  never  could  find  out ;  but 
I  have  known  an  Albanian,  after  residing  some  years  in 
Britain,  and  becoming  a  polished  fine  gentleman,  join  the 
sport,  and  slide  down  with  the  rest.  Perhaps,  after  all  our 
laborious  refinements  in  amusements,  being  easily  pleased  is 
one  of  the  great  secrets  of  happiness,  as  far  as  it  is  retainable 
in  this  "frail  and  feverish  being." 

FASHIONABLE  PIG-STEALING. 

Now  there  remains  another  amusement  to  be    described, 
which   I  mention  with  reluctance,  and  should  hardly  venture 


134  NEW  YORK  AND   THE  JERSEYS. 

to  mention  at  all,  if  I  had  not  found  a  precedent  for  it  among 
the  virtuous  Spartans.  Had  Lycurgus  himself  been  the 
founder  of .  their  community,  the  young  men  could  scarce  have 
stolen  with  more  alacrity  and  dexterity.  I  could  never  con 
jecture  how  the  custom  could  possibly  originate  among  a  set 
of  people  of  such  perfect  and  plain  integrity.  But  thus  it 
was.  The  young  men  now  and  then  spent  a  convivial  evening 
at  a  tavern  together,  where,  from  the  extreme  cheapness  of 
liquor,  their  bills  (even  when  they  committed  an  occasional 
excess)  were  very  moderate.  Either  to  lessen  the  expense  of 
the  supper,  or  from  the  pure  love  of  what  they  styled  frolic 
(Anglice  mischief),  they  never  failed  to  steal  either  a  roasting- 
pig  or  a  fat  turkey  for  this  festive  occasion.  The  town  was 
the  scene  of  these  depredations,  which  never  extended  beyond 
it.  Swine  and  turkeys  were  reared  in  great  numbers  by  all 
the  inhabitants.  For  those  they  brought  to  town  in  winter, 
they  had  an  appropriate  place  at  the  lower  end  of  the  garden, 
in  which  they  locked  them  up.  It  is  observable,  that  these 
animals  were  the  only  things  locked  up  about  the  house,  for 
this  good  reason,  that  nothing  else  ran  the  least  risk  of  being 
stolen.  The  dexterity  of  the  theft  consisted  in  climbing  over 
very  high  walls,  watching  to  steal  in  when  the  negroes  went 
down  to  feed  the  horse  or  cow,  or  making  a  clandestine  en 
trance  at  some  window  or  aperture :  breaking  up  doors  was 
quite  out  of  rule,  and  rarely  ever  resorted  to.  These  exploits 
were  always  performed  in  the  darkest  nights.  If  the  owner 
heard  a  noise  in  his  stables,  he  usually  ran  down  with  a 
cudgel,  and  laid  it  without  mercy  on  any  culprit  he  could  over 
take.  This  was  either  dexterously  avoided,  or  patiently  borne. 
To  plunder  a  man,  and  afterwards  offer  him  any  personal 
injury,  was  accounted  scandalous  ;  but  the  turkeys  or  pigs 
were  never  recovered.  In  some  instances,  a  whole  band  of 
these  young  plunderers  would  traverse  the  town,  and  carry  off 
such  a  prey  as  would  afford  provision  for  many  jovial  nights. 
Nothing  was  more  common  than  to  find  one's  brothers  or 
nephews  among  these  pillagers. 

Marriage  was  followed  by  two  dreadful  privations  :  a  mar- 


FASHIONABLE  PIG-STEALING.  135 

ried  man  could  not  fly  down  the  street  in  a  little  sledge,  nor 
join  a  party  of  pig-stealers,  without  outraging  decorum.  If 
any  of  their  confederates  married,  as  they  frequently  did, 
very  young,  and  were  in  circumstances  to  begin  housekeeping, 
they  were  sure  of  an  early  visit  of  this  nature  from  their  old 
confederates.  It  was  thought  a  great  act  of  gallantry  to  over 
take  and  chastise  the  robbers.  I  recollect  an  instance  of  one 
young  married  man  who  had  not  long  attained  to  that  dignity. 
His  turkeys  screaming  violently  one  night,  he  ran  down  to 
chastise  the  aggressors :  he  overtook  them  in  the  act ;  but, 
finding  they  were  his  old  associates,  he  could  not  resist  the 
force  of  habit,  so  joined  the  rest  in  another  exploit  of  the 
same  nature,  and  then  shared  his  own  turkey  at  the  tavern. 
There  were  two  inns  in  the  town,  the  masters  of  which  were 
"  honorable  men  ;  "  yet  these  pigs  and  turkeys  were  always 
received  and  dressed,  without  questioning  whence  they  carne. 
In  one  instance  a  young  party  had,  in  this  manner,  provided 
a  pig,  and  ordered  it  to  be  roasted  at  the  King's  Arms  : 
another  party  attacked  the  same  place  whence  this  booty  was 
taken,  but  found  it  already  rifled.  This  party  was  headed  by 
an  idle,  mischievous  young  man,  who  was  the  Ned  Poins  of 
his  fraternity ;  well  guessing  how  the  stolen  roasting-pig  was 
disposed  of,  he  ordered  his  friends  to  adjourn  to  the  rival 
tavern,  and  went  himself  to  the  King's  Arms.  Inquiring  in 
the  kitchen  (where  a  pig  was  roasting)  who  supped  there,  he 
soon  arrived  at  certainty ;  then,  taking  an  opportunity  when 
there  was  no  one  in  the  kitchen  but  the  cook-maid,  he  sent  for 
one  of  the  jovial  party,  who  were  at  cards  up  stairs.  During 
her  absence,  he  cut  the  string  by  which  the  pig  was  sus 
pended,  laid  it  in  the  dripping-pan,  and,  through  the  quiet  and 
dark  streets  of  that  sober  city,  carried  it  safely  to  the  other 
tavern,  where,  after  finishing  the  roasting,  he  and  his  compan 
ions  prepared  to  regale  themselves.  Meantime  the  pig  was 
missed  at  the  King's  Arms  ;  and  it  was  immediately  con 
cluded,  from  the  dexterity  and  address  with  which  this  trick 
was  performed,  that  no  other  but  the  Poins  aforesaid  could 
be  the  author  of  it.  A  new  stratagem  was  now  devised  to 


136  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

outwit  this  stealer  of  the  stolen.  An  adventurous  youth  of  the 
despoiled  party  laid  down  a  parcel  of  shavings  opposite  to 
the  other  tavern,  and,  setting  them  in  a  blaze,  cried,  "  Fire  !  " 
a  most  alarming  sound  here,  where  such  accidents  were  too 
frequent.  Every  one  rushed  out  of  the  house  just  as  supper 
had  been  served.  The  dexterous  purveyor  who  had  occa 
sioned  all  this  disturbance  stole  in,  snatched  up  the  dish  with 
the  pig  in  it,  stole  out  again  by  the  back-door,  and  feasted  his 
companions  with  the  recovered  spoils. 

These  were  a  few  idle  young  men,  the  sons  of  avaricious 
fathers,  who,  grudging  to  advance  the  means  of  pushing  them 
forward,  by  the  help  of  their  own  industry,  to  independence, 
allowed  them  to  remain  so  long  unoccupied,  that  their  time 
was  wasted,  and  habits  of  conviviality  at  length  degenerated 
into  those  of  dissipation.  They  were  not  only  pitied  and 
endured,  but  received  with  a  wonderful  degree  of  kindness 
and  indulgence.  They  were  usually  a  kind  of  wags  ;  went 
about  like  privileged  persons,  at  whose  jests  no  one  took 
offence  ;  and  were,  in  their  discourse  and  style  of  humor,  so 
much  like  Shakspeare's  clowns,  that,  on  reading  that  admirable 
author,  I  thought  I  recognized  my  old  acquaintances.  Of 
them,  however,  I  saw  little,  the  society  admitted  at  my  friend's 
being  very  select. 

LAY-BROTHERS. 

Before  I  quit  this  attempt  to  delineate  the  members  of 
which  this  community  was  composed,  I  must  mention  a  class 
of  aged  persons,  who,  united  by  the  same  recollections,  pur 
suits,  and  topics,  associated  very  much  with  each  other,  and 
very  little  with  a  world  which  they  seemed  to  have  renounced. 
They  might  be  styled  lay-brothers,  and  were  usually  widowers, 
or  persons  who,  in  consequence  of  some  early  disappointment, 
had  remained  unmarried.  These  were  not  devotees,  who  had, 
as  was  formerly  often  the  case  in  Catholic  countries,  run  from 
the  extreme  of  licentiousness  to  that  of  bigotry.  They  were 
generally  persons  who  were  never  marked  as  being  irreligious 
or  immoral,  and  were  just  as  little  distinguished  for  peculiar 
strictness,  or  devotional  fervor.  These  goodmen  lived  in  the 


LA  Y-BRO  THERS.  1 3  / 

house  of  some  relation,  where  they  had  their  own  apartments 
to  themselves,  and  only  occasionally  mixed  with  the  family. 
The  people  of  the  town  lived  to  a  great  age  :  ninety  was  fre 
quently  attained ;  and  I  have  seen  different  individuals  of  both 
sexes  who  had  reached  a  hundred.  These  ancients  seemed 
to  place  all  their  delight  in  pious  books  and  devotional  exer 
cises,  particularly  in  singing  psalms,  which  they  would  do  in 
their  own  apartments  for  hours  together.  They  came  out 
and  in  like  ghosts,  and  were  treated  as  such  ;  for  they  never 
spoke,  unless  when  addressed,  and  seemed  very  careless  of 
the  things  of  this  world,  like  people  who  had  got  above  it. 
Yet  they  were  much  together,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  each 
other's  conversation.  Retrospection  on  the  scenes  of  early 
life,  anticipations  of  that  futurity  so  closely  veiled  from  our 
sight,  and  discussions  regarding  various  passages  of  holy 
writ,  seemed  their  favorite  themes.  They  were  mild  and 
benevolent,  but  abstracted,  and  unlike  other  people.  Their 
happiness,  for  happy  I  am  convinced  they  were,  was  of  a 
nature  peculiar  to  themselves,  not  obvious  to  others.  Some 
there  were,  not  deficient  in  their  attention  to  religious  duties, 
who,  living  in  the  bosom  of  their  families,  took  an  active  and 
cheerful  concern  to  the  last  in  all  that  amused  or  interested 
them  ;  and  I  never  understood  that  the  lay-brothers,  as  I 
have  chosen  to  call  them,  blamed  them  for  so  doing.  One  of 
the  first  Christian  virtues,  charity  in  the  most  accepted  and 
common  sense  of  the  word,  had  little  scope.  Here  a  beggar 
was  unheard  of.  People  such  as  I  have  described  in  the 
Bush,  or  going  there,  were  no  more  considered  as  objects  of 
pity  than  we  consider  an  apprentice  as  such  for  having  his 
time  to  serve  before  he  sets  up  for  himself.  In  such  cases, 
the  wealthier  because  older  settlers  frequently  gave  a  heifer  or 
a  colt  each  to  a  new  beginner  who  set  about  clearing  land  in 
their  vicinity.  Orphans  were  never  neglected  ;  and  from  their 
early  marriages,  and  the  casualties  to  which  their  mannner  of 
life  subjected  them,  these  were  not  unfrequent.  You  never 
entered  a  house  without  meeting  children.  Maidens,  bachel 
ors,  and  childless  married  people,  all  adopted  orphans  ;  and  all 
treated  them  as  if  they  were  their  own. 


138  NEW  YORK  AND   THE  JERSEYS. 


MlSS    SCHUYLER,   THE   "AMERICAN    LADY." 

Col.  Schuyler  had  many  relations  in  New  York ;  and  the 
governor  and  other  ruling  characters  there  carefully  cultivated 
the  acquaintance  of  a  person  so  well  qualified  to  instruct  and 
inform  them  on  certain  points.  Having  considerable  dealings 
in  the  fur-trade  too,  he  went  every  winter  to  the  capital  for  a 
short  time,  to  adjust  his  commercial  concerns,  and  often  took 
his  favorite  niece  along  with  him,  who,  being  of  an  uncommon 
quick  growth  and  tall  stature,  soon  attracted  attention  by  her 
personal  graces,  as  well  as  by  the  charms  of  her  conversation. 
I  have  been  told,  and  should  conclude  from  a  picture  I  have 
seen  drawn  when  she  was  fifteen,  that  she  was  in  her  youth 
very  handsome.  Of  this,  few  traces  remained  when  I  knew 
her;  excessive  corpulence  having  then  overloaded  her  majestic 
person,  and  entirely  changed  the  aspect  of  a  countenance 
once  eminently  graceful.  In  no  place  did  female  excellence 
of  any  kind  more  amply  receive  its  due  tribute  of  applause 
and  admiration  than  here,  for  various  reasons.  First,  cultiva 
tion  and  refinement  were  rare.  Then  it  was  not  the  common 
routine  that  women  should  necessarily  have  such  and  such 
accomplishments.  Pains  were  taken  only  on  minds  strong 
enough  to  bear  improvement  without  becoming  conceited  or 
pedantic.  And  lastly,  as  the  spur  of  emulation  was  not  invid 
iously  applied,  those  who  acquired  a  superior  degree  of 
knowledge  considered  themselves  as  very  fortunate  in  having 
a  new  source  of  enjoyment  opened  to  them  ;  but  never  having 
been  made  to  understand  that  the  chief  motive  of  excelling 
was  to  dazzle,  or  outshine  others,  they  no  more  thought  of 
despising  their  less  fortunate  companions  than  of  assuming 
pre-eminence  for  discovering  a  wild  plum-tree  or  beehive  in 
the  woods  ;  though,  as  in  the  former  case,  they  would  have 
regarded  such  a  discovery  as  a  benefit  and  a  pleasure.  Their 
acquisitions,  therefore,  were  never  shaded  by  affectation. 
The  women  were  all  natives  of  the  country,  and  few  had 
more  than  domestic  education ;  but  men  who  possessed  the 
advantages  of  early  culture  and  usage  of  the  world  daily 


MISS  SCHUYLER,    THE   "AMERICAN  LADY:1  139 

arrived  on  the  continent  from  different  parts  of  Europe ;  so 
that,  if  we  may  be  indulged  in  the  inelegant  liberty  of  talking 
commercially  of  female  elegance,  the  supply  was  not  equal 
to  the  demand.  It  may  be  easily  supposed  that  Miss  Schuyler 
met  with  due  attention,  who,  even  at  this  early  age,  was 
respected  for  the  strength  of  her  character,  and  the  dignity 
and  composure  of  her  manners.  Her  mother,  whom  she 
delighted  to  recollect,  was  mild,  pious,  and  amiable.  Her 
acknowledged  worth  was  chastened  by  the  utmost  diffidence. 
Yet  accustomed  to  exercise  a  certain  power  over  the  minds  of 
the  natives,  she  had  great  influence  in  restraining  their  irregu 
larities,  and  swaying  their  opinions.  From  her  knowledge  of 
their  language,  and  habit  of  conversing  with  them,  some 
detached  Indian  families  resided  for  a  while  in  summer  in  the 
vicinity  of  houses  occupied  by  the  more  wealthy  and  benevo 
lent  inhabitants.  They  generally  built  a  slight  wigwam  under 
shelter  of  the  orchard-fence  on  the  shadiest  side ;  and  never 
were  neighbors  more  harmless,  peaceable,  and  obliging,  I 
might  truly  add,  industrious ;  for,  in  one  way  or  other,  they 
were  constantly  occupied.  The  women  and  their  children 
employed  themselves  in  many  ingenious  handicrafts,  which, 
since  the  introduction  of  European  arts  and  manufactures, 
have  greatly  declined,  —  baking-trays,  wooden  dishes,  ladles 
and  spoons,  shovels  and  rakes  ;  brooms  of  a  peculiar  manu 
facture,  made  by  splitting  a  birch-block  into  slender  but  tough 
filaments  ;  baskets  of  all  kinds  and  sizes,  made  of  similar 
filaments,  enriched  with  the  most  beautiful  colors,  which  they 
alone  knew  how  to  extract  from  vegetable  substances,  and 
incorporate  with  the  wood.  They  made  also  of  the  birch-bark 
(which  is  here  so  strong  and  tenacious,  that  cradles  and  canoes 
are  made  of  it)  many  receptacles  for  holding  fruit  and  other 
things,  curiously  adorned  with  embroidery,  not  inelegant, 
done  with  the  sinews  of  deer  ;  and  leggings  and  moccasons,  a 
very  comfortable  and  highly  ornamental  substitute  for  shoes 
and  stockings,  then  universally  used  in  winter  among  the 
men  of  our  own  people.  They  had  also  a  beautiful  manufac 
ture  of  deerskin,  softened  to  the  consistence  of  the  finest 


I4O  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

chamois-leather,  and  embroidered  with  beads  of  wampum, 
formed  like  bugles  :  these,  with  great  art  and  industry,  they 
formed  out  of  shells,  which  had  the  appearance  of  fine  white 
porcelain,  veined  with  purple.  This  embroidery  showed  both 
skill  and  taste,  and  was  among  themselves  highly  valued. 
They  had  belts,  large  embroidered  garters,  and  many  other 
ornaments,  formed  first  of  deer  sinews,  divided  to  the  size  of 
coarse  thread,  and  afterwards,  when  they  obtained  worsted 
thread  from  us,  of  that  material,  formed  in  a  manner  which  I 
could  never  comprehend.  It  was  neither  knitted  nor  wrought 
in  the  manner  of  net,  nor  yet  woven ;  but  the  texture  was 
more  like  that  of  an  officer's  sash  than  any  thing  I  can  com 
pare  it  to. 

MARRIAGE  OF  Miss  SCHUYLER. 

Miss  Schuyler  had  the  happiness  to  captivate  her  cousin 
Philip,  eldest  son  of  her  uncle,  who  was  ten  years  older  than 
herself,  and  was  in  all  respects  to  be  accounted  a  suitable,  and, 
in  the  worldly  sense,  an  advantageous  match  for  her.  His 
father  was  highly  satisfied  to  have  the  two  objects  on  whom 
he  had  bestowed  so  much  care  and  culture  united.  They 
were  married  in  the  year  I7I9,'1  when  she  was  in  the  eigh 
teenth  year  of  her  age.  When  the  old  colonel  died,  he  left 
considerable  possessions  to  be  divided  among  his  children; 
and  from  the  quantity  of  plate,  paintings,  &c.,  which  they 
shared,  there  is  reason  to  believe  he  must  have  brought  some 
of  his  wealth  from  Holland,  as  in  those  days  people  had  little 
means  of  enriching  themselves  in  new  settlements.  He  had, 
also,  considerable  possessions  in  a  place  near  the  town,  now 
called  Fishkill,  about  twenty  miles  below  Albany.  His  family 
residence,  however,  was  at  the  Flats,  a  fertile  and  beautiful 
plain  on  the  banks  of  the  river.  He  possessed  about  two 
miles  on  a  stretch  of  that  rich  and  level  champaign.  This 
possession  was  bounded  on  the  east  by  the  River  Hudson, 
whose  high  banks  overhung  the  stream  and  its  pebbly  strand, 
and  were  both  adorned  and  defended  by  elms  (larger  than 

1  Miss  Schuyler  was  born  in  the  year  1701. 


MARRIAGE  OF  MISS  SCHUYLER.  141 

ever  I  have  seen  in  any  other  place),  decked  with  natural  fes 
toons  of  wild  grapes,  which  abound  along  the  banks  of  this 
noble  stream.  These  lofty  elms  were  left,  when  the  country 
was  cleared,  to  fortify  the  banks  against  the  masses  of  thick 
ice  which  make  war  upon  them  in  spring,  when  the  melting 
snows  burst  this  glassy  pavement,  and  raise  the  waters  many 
feet  above  their  usual  level.  This  precaution  not  only 
answers  that  purpose,  but  gratifies  the  mind  by  presenting  to 
the  eye  a  remnant  of  the  wild  magnificence  of  Nature  amidst 
the  smiling  scenes  produced  by  Varied  and  successful  culti 
vation.  As  you  came  along  by  the  north  end  of  the  town, 
where  the  Patroon  had  his  seat,  you  afterwards  passed  by  the 
enclosures  of  the  citizens,  where  (as  formerly  described)  they 
planted  their  corn,  and  arrived  at  the  Flats,  Col.  Schuyler's 
possession.  On  the  right  you  saw  the  river  in  all  its  beauty, 
there  above  a  mile  broad.  On  the  opposite  side,  the  view 
was  bounded  by  steep  hills,  covered  with  lofty  pines,  from 
which  a  waterfall  descended,  which  not  only  gave  animation 
to  the  sylvan  scene,  but  was  the  best  barometer  imaginable, 
foretelling  by  its  varied  and  intelligible  sounds  every  ap 
proaching  change,  not  only  of  the  weather,  but  of  the  wind. 
Opposite  to  the  grounds  lay  an  island  above  a  mile  in  length, 
and  about  a  quarter  in  breadth,  which  also  belonged  to  the 
colonel :  exquisitely  beautiful  it  was  ;  and  though  the  haunt  I 
most  delighted  in,  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  describe  it. 
Imagine  a  little  Egypt  yearly  overflowed,  and  of  the  most 
redundant  fertility.  This  charming  spot  was  at  first  covered 
with  wood,  like  the  rest  of  the  country,  except  a  long  field  in 
the  middle,  where  the  Indians  had  probably  cultivated  maize  : 
round  this  was  a  broad,  shelving  border,  where  the  gray  and 
the  weeping  willows,  the  bending  osier,  and  numberless 
aquatic  plants  not  known  in  this  country,  were  allowed  to 
flourish  in  the  utmost  luxuriance  ;  while  within,  some  tall  syca 
mores  and  wild  fruit-trees  towered  above  the  rest.  Thus  was 
formed  a  broad  belt,  which  in  winter  proved  an  impenetrable 
barrier  against  the  broken  ice,  and  in  summer  was  the  haunt 
of  numberless  birds  and  small  animals,  who  dwelt  in  perfect 


142  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

safety,  it  being  impossible  to  penetrate  it.  Numberless  were 
the  productions  of  this  luxuriant  spot.  Never  was  a  richer 
field  for  a  botanist ;  for,  though  the  ice  was  kept  off,  the  turbid 
waters  of  the  spring  flood  overflowed  it  annually,  and  not  only 
deposited  a  rich  sediment,  but  left  the  seeds  of  various  plants 
swept  from  the  shores  it  had  passed  by.  The  centre  of  the 
island,  which  was  much  higher  than  the  sides,  produced  with 
a  slight  degree  of  culture  the  most  abundant  crops  of  wheat, 
hay,  and  flax.  At  the  end  of  the  island,  which  was  exactly 
opposite  to  the  family  mansion,  a  long  sand-bank  extended : 
on  this  was  a  very  valuable  fishing-place,  of  which  a  considera 
ble  profit  might  be  made.  In  summer,  when  the  water  was 
low,  this  narrow  stripe  (for  such  it  was)  came  in  sight,  and 
furnished  an  amusing  spectacle ;  for  there  the  bald  or  white- 
headed  eagle  (a  large  picturesque  bird,  very  frequent  in  this 
country),  the  osprey,  the  heron,  and  the  curlew,  used  to  stand 
in  great  numbers  in  a  long  row,  like  a  military  arrangement, 
for  a  whole  summer-day,  fishing  for  perch  and  a  kind  of  fresh 
water  herring,  which  abounded  there.  At  the  same  season,  a 
variety  of  wild  ducks,  which  bred  on  the  shores  of  the  island 
(among  which  was  a  small  white  diver  of  an  elegant  form),  led 
forth  their  young  to  try  their  first  excursion.  What  a  scene 
have  I  beheld  on  a  calm  summer  evening !  There  indeed 
were  "  fringed  banks,"  richly  fringed,  and  wonderfully  varie 
gated,  where  every  imaginable  shade  of  color  mingled,  and 
where  life  teemed  prolific  on  every  side.  The  river,  a  perfect 
mirror,  reflected  the  pine-covered  hills  opposite ;  and  the 
pliant  shades  bent  without  a  wind  round  this  enchanting 
island ;  while  hundreds  of  the  white  divers,  saw-bill  ducks  with 
scarlet  heads,  teal,  and  other  aquatic  birds,  sported  at  once  on 
the  calm  waters.  At  the  discharge  of  a  gun  from  the  shore, 
these  feathered  beauties  all  disappeared  at  once,  as  if  by 
magic,  and  in  an  instant  rose  again  to  view  in  different  places. 

PHILIP  SCHUYLER. 

Philip  Schuyler,  who,  on  the  death  of  his  father,  succeeded 
to  the  inheritance  I  have  been  describing,  was  a  person  of  a 


PHILIP  SCHUYLER.  143 

mild,  benevolent  character,  and  an  excellent  understanding, 
which  had  received  more  culture  than  was  usual  in  that  coun 
try.  But  whether  he  had  returned  to  Europe  for  the  purpose 
of  acquiring  knowledge  in  the  public  seminaries  there,  or  had 
been  instructed  by  any  French  Protestants,  who  were  some 
times  retained  in  the  principal  families  for  such  purposes,  I  do 
not  exactly  know,  but  am  led  rather  to  suppose  the  latter, 
from  the  connection  which  always  subsisted  between  that 
class  of  people  and  the  Schuyler  family. 

When  the  intimacy  between  this  gentleman  and  the  subject 
of  these  memoirs  took  place,  she  was  a  mere  child ;  for  the 
colonel,  as  he  was  soon  after  called,  was  ten  years  older  than 
she.  This  was  singular  there,  where  most  men  married  under 
twenty.  But  his  early  years  were  occupied  by  momentous 
concerns  ;  for,  by  this  time,  the  public  safety  began  to  be 
endangered  by  the  insidious  wiles  of  the  French  Canadians, 
to  whom  our  frontier  settlers  began  to  be  formidable  rivals  in 
the  fur-trade,  which  the  former  wished  to  engross.  In  process 
of  time,  the  Indians,  criminally  indulged  with  strong  liquors 
by  the  most  avaricious  and  unprincipled  of  the  traders,  began 
to  have  an  insatiable  desire  for  them,  and  the  traders'  avidity 
for  gain  increased  in  the  same  proportion. 

Occasional  fraud  on  the  one  hand  gave  rise  to  occasional 
violence  on  the  other.  Mutual  confidence  decayed  ;  and  hos 
tility  betrayed  itself,  when  intoxication  laid  open  every  thought. 
Some  of  our  traders  were,  as  the  colonists  alleged,  treacher 
ously  killed  in  violation  of  treaties  solemnly  concluded 
between  them  and  the  offending  tribes. 

The  Mohawks,  though  always  brave  and  always  faithful, 
felt  a  very  allowable  repugnance  to  expose  the  lives  of  their 
warriors  in  defence  of  those  who  made  no  effort  to  defend 
themselves  ;  who  were  neither  protected  by  the  arms  of  their 
sovereign,  nor  by  their  own  courage.  They  came  down  to 
hold  a  solemn  congress,  at  which  the  heads  of  the  Schuyler 
and  Cuyler  families  assisted,  and  where  it  was  agreed,  that 
for  the  present  hostilities  should  be  delayed,  the  hostile 
nations  pacified  by  concessions  and  presents,  and  means 


144  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

adopted  to  put  the  settlement  into  a  state  of  defence  against 
future  aggressions. 

On  all  such  occasions,  when  previously  satisfied  with  regard 
to  the  justice  of  the  grounds  of  quarrel,  the  Mohawks  prom 
ised  their  hearty  co-operation.  This  they  were  the  readier  to 
do  as  their  young  brother  Philip  (for  so  they  styled  Col. 
Schuyler)  offered  not  only  to  head  such  troops  as  might  be 
raised  for  this  purpose,  but  to  engage  his  two  brothers,  who 
were  well  acquainted  with  the  whole  frontier  territory,  to  serve 
on  the  same  terms.  This  was  a  singular  instance  of  public 
spirit  in  a  young  patriot,  who  was  an  entire  stranger  to  the 
profession  of  arms,  and  whose  sedate  equanimity  of  character 
was  adverse  to  every  species  of  rashness  or  enthusiasm. 
Meantime  the  provisions  of  the  above-mentioned  treaty  could 
not  be  carried  into  effect  till  they  were  ratified  by  the  assem 
bly  at  New  York,  and  approved  by  the  governor.  Of  this 
there  was  little  doubt  :  the  difficulty  was  to  raise  and  pay  the 
troops.  In  the  interim,  while  steps  were  taking  to  legalize 
this  project,  in  1719  the  marriage  between  Col.  Schuyler  and 
his  cousin  took  place  under  the  happiest  auspices. 

NEW  YORK. 

Soon  after  their  marriage,  they  paid  a  visit  to  New  York, 
which  they  repeated  once  a  year  in  the  earlier  period  of  their 
marriage,  on  account  of  their  connection  in  that  city,  and  the 
pleasing  and  intelligent  society  that  was  always  to  be  met 
with  there,  both  on  account  of  its  being  the  seat  of  govern 
ment,  and  the  residence  of  the  commander-in-chief  on  the 
continent,  who  was  then  necessarily  invested  with  considera 
ble  power  and  privileges,  and  had,  as  well  as  the  governor 
for  the  time  being,  a  petty  court  assembled  round  him.  At  a 
very  early  period,  a  better  style  of  manners,  greater  ease, 
frankness,  and  polish  prevailed  at  New  York  than  in  any  of 
the  neighboring  provinces.  There  was,  in  particular,  a  briga 
dier-general  Hunter,  of  whom  I  have  heard  Mrs.  Schuyler 
talk  a  great  deal,  as  coinciding  with  her  uncle  and  husband 
successively  in  their  plans  either  of  defence  or  improvement. 
He,  I  think,  was  then  governor,  and  was  as  acceptable  to  the 


NEW  YORK.  145 

Schuylers  for  his  colloquial  talents  and  friendly  disposition, 
as  estimable  for  his  public  spirit,  and  application  to  business  ; 
in  which  respects  he  was  not  equalled  by  any  of  his  success 
ors.  In  his  circle  the  young  couple  were  much  distinguished. 
There  were,  too,  among  those  leading  families,  the  Living 
stons  and  Rensselaers,  friends  connected  with  them  both  by 
blood  and  attachment.  There  was,  also,  another  distinguished 
family  to  whom  they  were  allied,  and  with  whom  they  lived 
in  cordial  intimacy :  these  were  the  De  Lancys,  of  French 
descent,  but  by  subsequent  intermarriages  blended  with  the 
Dutch  inhabitants.  Of  the  French  Protestants  there  were 
many  then  in  New  York,  as  will  be  hereafter  explained  ;  but 
as  these  conscientious  exiles  were  persons  allied  in  religion 
to  the  primitive  settlers,  and  regular  and  industrious  in  their 
habits,  they  soon  mingled  with,  and  became  a  part  of,  that 
society,  which  was  enlivened  by  their  sprightly  manners,  and 
benefited  by  the  useful  arts  they  brought  along  with  them.  In 
this  mixed  society,  which  must  have  had  attraction  for  young 
people  of  superior,  and  in  some  degree  cultivated  intellect, 
this  well-matched  pair  took  great  pleasure  ;  and  here,  no 
doubt,  was  improved  that  liberality  of  mind  and  manners 
which  so  much  distinguished  them  from  the  less  enlightened 
inhabitants  of  their  native  city.  They  were  so  much  caressed 
in  New  York,  and  found  so  many  charms  in  the  intelligent 
and  comparatively  polished  society  of  which  they  made  a  part, 
that  they  had  at  first  some  thoughts  of  residing  there.  These, 
however,  soon  gave  way  to  the  persuasions  of  the  old  colonel, 
with  whom  they  principally  resided  till  his  death,  which  hap 
pened  in  1721,  two  years  after.  This  union  was  productive 
of  all  that  felicity  which  might  be  expected  to  result  from 
entire  congeniality,  not  of  sentiment  only,  but  of  original  dis 
positions,  attachments,  and  modes  of  living  and  thinking,  He 
had  been  accustomed  to  consider  her,  as  a  child,  with  tender 
endearment.  She  had  been  used  to  look  up  to  him,  from 
infancy,  as  the  model  of  manly  excellence  ;  and  they  drew 
knowledge  and  virtue  from  the  same  fountain,  in  the  mind  of 
that  respectable  parent  whom  they  equally  loved  and  revered. 


146  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

THE  HOUSE  AND  RURAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  FLATS. 

I  have  already  sketched  a  general  outline  of  that  pleasant 
home  to  which  the  colonel  was  now  about  to  bring  his  be 
loved. 

Before  I  resume  my  narrative,  I  shall  indulge  myself  in  a 
still  more  minute  account  of  the  premises,  the  mode  of  living, 
&c.,  which  will  afford  a  more  distinct  idea  of  the  country  ; 
all  the  wealthy  and  informed  people  of  the  settlement  living, 
on  a  smaller  scale,  pretty  much  in  the  same  manner.  Be  it 
known,  however,  that  the  house  I  had  so  much  delight  in 
recollecting  had  no  pretension  to  grandeur,  and  very  little  to 
elegance.  It  was  a  large  brick  house  of  two,  or  rather  three 
stories  (for  there  were  excellent  attics),  besides  a  sunk  story, 
finished  with  the  exactest  neatness.  The  lower  floor  had  two 
spacious  rooms,  with  large  light  closets  :  on  the  first  there 
were  three  rooms,  and  in  the  upper  one  four.  Through  the 
middle  of  the  house  was  a  very  wide  passage,  with  opposite 
front  and  back  doors,  which  in  summer  admitted  a  stream  of 
air  peculiarly  grateful  to  the  languid  senses.  It  was  furnished 
with  chairs  and  pictures  like  a  summer-parlor.  Here  the 
family  usually  sat  in  hot  weather,  when  there  were  no  cere 
monious  strangers. 

Valuable  furniture  (though  perhaps  not  very  well  chosen 
or  assorted)  was  the  favorite  luxury  of  these  people  ;  and  in 
all  the  houses  I  remember,  except  those  of  the  brothers,  who 
were  every  way  more  liberal,  the  mirrors,  the  paintings,  the 
china,  but  above  all  the  state-bed,  were  considered  as  the 
family  teraphim,  secretly  worshipped,  and  only  exhibited  on 
very  rare  occasions.  But  in  Col.  Schuyler's  family,  the  rooms 
were  merely  shut  up  to  keep  the  flies,  which  in  that  country 
are  an  absolute  nuisance,  from  spoiling  the  furniture.  An 
other  motive  was,  that  they  might  be  pleasantly  cool  when 
opened  for  company.  This  house  had,  also,  two  appendages 
common  to  all  those  belonging  to  persons  in  easy  circum 
stances  there.  One  was  a  large  portico  at  the  door,  with  a 
few  steps  leading  up  to  it,  and  floored  like  a  room  :  it  was 


RURAL  ECONOMY  OF  THE  FLATS.  147 

open  at  the  sides,  and  had  seats  all  round.  Above  was  either 
a  slight  wooden  roof,  painted  like  an  awning,  or  a  covering 
of  lattice-work,  over  which  a  transplanted  wild  vine  spread 
its  luxuriant  leaves  and  numerous  clusters.  The  grapes, 
though  small,  and  rather  too  acid  till  sweetened  by  the  frost, 
had  a  beautiful  appearance.  What  gave  an  air  of  liberty  and 
safety  to  these  rustic  porticos,  which  always  produced  in  my 
mind  a  sensation  of  pleasure  that  I  know  not  how  to  define, 
was  the  number  of  little  birds  domesticated  there.  For  their 
accommodation,  there  was  a  small  shelf  built  within  the  por 
tico  where  they  nestled  safely  from  the  touch  of  slaves  and 
children,  who  were  taught  to  regard  them  as  the  good  genii 
of  the  place,  not  to  be  disturbed  with  impunity. 

At  the  back  of  the  large  house  was  a  smaller  and  lower 
one,  so  joined  to  it  as  to  make  the  form  of  a  cross.  There 
one  or  two  lower  and  smaller  rooms  below,  and  the  same 
number  above,  afforded  a  refuge  to  the  family  during  the 
rigors  of  winter,  when  the  spacious  summer-rooms  would 
have  been  intolerably  cold,  and  the  smoke  of  prodigious 
wood-fires  would  have  sullied  the  elegantly  clean  furniture. 
Here,  too,  was  a  sunk  story,  where  the  kitchen  was  immedi 
ately  below  the  eating  -  parlor,  and  increased  the  general 
warmth  of  the  house.  In  summer  the  negroes  inhabited 
slight  outer  kitchens,  in  which  food  was  dressed  for  the 
family.  Those  who  wrought  in  the  fields  often  had  their  sim 
ple  dinner  cooked  without,  and  ate  it  under  the  shade  of  a 
great  tree.  One  room,  I  should  have  said,  in  the  greater 
house  only,  was  opened  for  the  reception  of  company :  all  the 
rest  were  bed-chambers  for  their  accommodation ;  the  domes 
tic  friends  of  the  family  occupying  neat  little  bedrooms  in  the 
attics,  or  in  the  winter-house.  This  house  contained  no  draw 
ing-room  :  that  was  an  unheard-of  luxury.  The  winter-rooms 
had  carpets :  the  lobby  had  oilcloth  painted  in  lozenges,  to 
imitate  blue  and  white  marble.  The  best  bedroom  was  hung 
with  family  portraits,  some  of  which  were  admirably  exe 
cuted  ;  and  in  the  eating-room,  which,  by  the  by,  was  rarely 
used  for  that  purpose,  were  some  fine  Scripture  paintings. 


148  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

That  which  made  the  greatest  impression  on  my  imagination, 
and  seemed  to  be  universally  admired,  was  one  of  Esau  com 
ing  to  demand  the  anticipated  blessing:  the  noble,  manly 
figure  of  the  luckless  hunter,  and  the  anguish  expressed  in 
his  comely  though  strong-featured  countenance,  I  shall  never 
forget.  The  house  fronted  the  river,  on  the  brink  of  which, 
under  shades  of  elm  and  sycamore,  ran  the  great  road  towards 
Saratoga,  Stillwater,  and  the  Northern  Lakes.  A  little  simple 
avenue  of  morello  cherry-trees,  enclosed  with  a  white  rail,  led 
to  the  road  and  river,  not  three  hundred  yards  distant.  Ad 
joining  to  this,  on  the  south  side,  was  an  enclosure  subdivided 
into  three  parts,  of  which  the  first  was  a  small  hay-field,  oppo 
site  the  south  end  of  the  house;  the  next,  not  so  long,  a 
garden ;  and  the  third,  by  far  the  largest,  an  orchard.  These 
were  surrounded  by  simple  deal  fences.  Now,  let  not  the 
Genius  that  presides  over  pleasure-grounds,  nor  any  of  his 
elegant  votaries,  revolt  with  disgust  while  I  mention  the  un 
seemly  ornaments  which  were  exhibited  on  the  stakes  to 
which  the  deals  of  these  same  fences  were  bound.  Truly 
they  consisted  of  the  skeleton  heads  of  horses  and  cattle,  in 
as  great  numbers  as  could  be  procured,  stuck  upon  the  above- 
said  poles.  This  was  not  mere  ornament  either,  but  a  most 
hospitable  arrangement  for  the  accommodation  of  the  small 
familiar  birds  before  described.  The  jaws  are  fixed  on  the 
pole,  and  the  skull  uppermost.  The  wren,  on  seeing  a  skull 
thus  placed,  never  fails  to  enter  by  the  orifice,  which  is  too 
small  to  admit  the  hand  of  an  infant,  lines  the  pericranium 
with  small  twigs  and  horsehair,  and  there  lays  her  eggs  in  full 
security.  It  is  very  amusing  to  see  the  little  creature  care 
lessly  go  out  and  in  at  this  aperture,  though  you  should  be 
standing  immediately  beside  it.  Not  satisfied  with  providing 
these  singular  asylums  for  their  feathered  friends,  the  negroes 
never  fail  to  make  a  small  round  hole  in  the  crown  of  every 
old  hat  they  can  lay  their  hands  on,  and  nail  it  to  the  end  of 
the  kitchen  for  the  same  purpose.  You  often  see  in  such  a 
one,  at  once,  thirty  or  forty  of  these  odd  little  domiciles,  with 
the  inhabitants  busily  going  out  and  in. 


COL.   SCHUYLEFS  BARN.  149 

Besides  all  these  salutary  provisions  for  the  domestic  com 
fort  of  the  birds,  there  was,  in  clearing  the  way  for  their  first 
establishment,  a  tree  always  left  in  the  middle  of  the  back 
yard,  for  their  sole  emolument;  this  tree  being  purposely 
pollarded  at  midsummer,  when  all  the  branches  were  full  of 
sap.  Wherever  there  had  been  a  branch,  the  decay  of  the 
inside  produced  a  hole ;  and  every  hole  was  the  habitation  of 
a  bird.  These  were  of  various  kinds :  some  had  a  pleasing 
note ;  but,  on  the  whole,  their  songsters  are  far  inferior  to 
ours.  I  rather  dwell  on  these  minutiae,  as  they  not  only  mark 
the  peculiarities  of  the  country,  but  convey  very  truly  the 
image  of  a  people  not  too  refined  for  happiness,  which,  in  the 
process  of  elegant  luxury,  is  apt  to  die  of  disgust. 

COL.  SCHUYLER'S  BARN. 

Adjoining  to  the  orchard  was  the  most  spacious  barn  I  ever 
beheld,  which  I  shall  describe  for  the  benefit  of  such  of  my 
readers  as  have  never  seen  a  building  constructed  on  a  plan 
so  comprehensive.  This  barn,  which,  as  will  hereafter  ap 
pear,  answered  many  beneficial  purposes  besides  those  usually 
allotted  for  such  edifices,  was  of  a  vast  size,  at  least  a  hun 
dred  feet  long,  and  sixty  wide.  The  roof  rose  to  a  very  great 
height  in  the  midst,  and  sloped  down  till  it  came  within  ten 
feet  of  the  ground,  when  the  walls  commenced,  which,  like 
the  whole  of  this  vast  fabric,  were  formed  of  wood.  It  was 
raised  three  feet  from  the  ground  by  beams  resting  on  stone  ; 
and  on  these  beams  was  laid,  in  the  middle  of  the  building,  a 
very  massive  oak  floor.  Before  the  door  was  a  large  sill, 
sloping  downwards,  of  the  same  materials.  A  breadth  of 
about  twelve  feet  on  each  side  of  this  capacious  building  was 
divided  off  for  cattle.  On  one  side  ran  a  manger,  at  the 
above-mentioned  distance  from  the  wall,  the  whole  length  of 
the  building,  with  a  rack  above  it :  on  the  other  were  stalls 
for  the  other  cattle,  running,  also,  the  whole  length  of  the 
building.  The  cattle  and  horses  stood  with  their  hinder  parts 
to  the  wall,  and  their  heads  towards  the  thrashing-floor. 
There  was  a  prodigious  large  box,  or  open  chest,  in  one  side, 


I5O  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

built  up  for  holding  the  corn  after  it  was  thrashed  ;  and  the 
roof,  which  was  very  lofty  and  spacious,  was  supported  by 
large  cross-beams.  From  one  to  the  other  of  these  was 
stretched  a  great  number  of  long  poles,  so  as  to  form  a  sort 
of  open  loft,  on  which  the  whole  rich  crop  was  laid  up.  The 
floor  of  those  parts  of  the  barn  which  answered  the  purposes 
of  a  stable  and  cow-house  was  made  of  thick  slab-deals,  laid 
loosely  over  the  supporting  beams.  And  the  mode  of  clean 
ing  those  places  was  by  turning  the  boards,  and  permitting 
the  dung  and  litter  to  fall  into  the  receptacles  left  open  below 
for  the  purpose  ;  thence,  in  spring,  they  were  often  driven 
down  to  the  river,  the  soil  in  its  original  state  not  requiring 
the  aid  of  manure.  In  the  front1  of  this  vast  edifice  there  were 
prodigious  folding-doors,  and  two  others  that  opened  behind. 

Certainly  never  did  cheerful  rural  toils  wear  a  more  exhila 
rating  aspect  than  while  the  domestics  were  lodging  the 
luxuriant  harvest  in  this  capacious  repository.  When  speak 
ing  of  the  doors,  I  should  have  mentioned  that  they  were 
made  in  the  gable-ends  ;  those  in  the  back  equally  large  to 
correspond  with  those  in  the  front,  while  on  each  side  of 
the  great  doors  were  smaller  ones  for  the  cattle  and  horses 
to  enter.  Whenever  the  corn  or  hay  was  reaped  or  cut,  and 
ready  for  carrying  home,  which  in  that  dry  and  warm  climate 
happened  in  a  very  few  days,  a  wagon  loaded  with  hay,  for 
instance,  was  driven  into  the  midst  of  this  great  barn  ;  loaded, 
also,  with  numberless  large  grasshoppers,  butterflies,  and 
cicadas,  who  came  along  with  the  hay.  From  the  top  of 
the  wagon,  this  was  immediately  forked  up  into  the  loft  of  the 
barn,  in  the  midst  of  which  was  an  open  space  left  for  the 
purpose  ;  and  then  the  unloaded  wagon  drove  in  rustic  state 
out  of  the  great  door  at  the  other  end.  In  the  mean  time, 
every  member  of  the  family  witnessed  or  assisted  in  this 
summary  process,  by  which  the  building  and  thatching  of 
stacks  was  at  once  saved  ;  and  the  whole  crop  and  cattle 
were  thus  compendiously  lodged  under  one  roof. 

1  By  the  front  is  meant  the  gable-end,  which  contains  the  entrance. 


OCCUPATIONS  OF  THE  DAY.  l$l 

The  cheerfulness  of  this  animated  scene  was  much  height 
ened  by  the  quick  appearance  and  vanishing  of  the  swallows, 
which  twittered  among  their  high-built  dwellings  in  the  roof. 
Here,  as  in  every  other  instance,  the  safety  of  these  domes 
tic  friends  was  attended  to,  and  an  abode  provided  for  them. 
In  the  front  of  this  barn  were  many  holes,  like  those  of  a 
pigeon-house,  for  the  accommodation  of  the  martin,  that 
being  the  species  to  which  this  kind  of  home  seems  most  con 
genial  ;  and,  in  the  inside  of  the  barn,  I  have  counted  above 
fourscore  at  once.  In  the  winter,  when  the  earth  was  buried 
deep  in  new-fallen  snow,  and  no  path  fit  for  walking  in  was 
left,  this  barn  was  like  a  great  gallery,  well  suited  for  that 
purpose,  and  furnished  with  pictures  not  unpleasing  to  a 
simple  and  contented  mind.  As  you  walked  through  this 
long  area,  looking  up,  you  beheld  the  abundance  of  the  year 
treasured  above  you  :  on  one  side,  the  comely  heads  of  your 
snorting  steeds  presented  themselves,  arranged  in  seemly 
order  ;  on  the  other,  your  kine  displayed  their  meeker  visages  ; 
while  the  perspective  on  either  was  terminated  by  heifers  and 
fillies  no  less  interesting.  In  the  midst,  your  servants  exer 
cised  the  flail,  and,  even  while  they  thrashed  out  the  straw, 
distributed  it  to  the  expectants  on  both  sides  ;  while  the  "liberal 
handful "  was  occasionally  thrown  to  the  many-colored  poultry 
on  the  sill.  Winter  itself  never  made  this  abode  of  life  and 
plenty  cold  and  cheerless.  Here  you  might  walk,  and  view  all 
your  subjects,  and  their  means  of  support,  at  one  glance  ; 
except,  indeed,  the  sheep,  for  which  a  large  and  commodious 
building  was  erected  very  near  the  barn ;  the  roof  containing  a 
loft  large  enough  to  hold  hay  sufficient  for  their  winter's  food. 

OCCUPATIONS  OF  THE  DAY. 

Aunt *  was  a  great  manager  of  her  time,  and  always  con 
trived  to  create  leisure  hours  for  reading:  for  that  kind  of 
conversation  which  is  properly  styled  gossiping,  she  had  the 
utmost  contempt.  Light,  superficial  reading,  such  as  merely 

1  "Aunt"  was  the  familiar  title  of  Mrs.  Schuyler. 


152  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

fills  a  blank  in  time,  and  glides  over  the  mind  without  leaving 
an  impression,  was  little  known  there  ;  for  few  books  crossed 
the  Atlantic  but  such  as  were  worth  carrying  so  far  for  their 
intrinsic  value.  She  was  too  much  accustomed  to  have  her 
mind  occupied  with  objects  of  real  weight  and  importance  to 
give  it  up  to  frivolous  pursuits  of  any  kind.  She  began  the 
morning  with  reading  the  Scriptures.  They  always  break 
fasted  early,  and  dined  two  hours  later  than  the  primitive 
inhabitants,  who  always  took  that  meal  at  twelve.  This  de 
parture  from  the  ancient  customs  was  necessary  in  this  family, 
to  accommodate  the  great  numbers  of  British,  as  well  as 
strangers  from  New  York,  who  were  daily  entertained  at  her 
liberal  table.  This  arrangement  gave  her  the  advantage  of 
a  longer  forenoon  to  dispose  of.  After  breakfast  she  gave 
orders  for  the  family  details  of  the  day,  which,  without  a 
scrupulous  attention  to  those  minutiae  which  fell  more  prop 
erly  under  the  notice  of  her  young  friends,  she  always  regu 
lated  in  the  most  judicious  manner,  so  as  to  prevent  all 
appearance  of  hurry  and  confusion.  There  was  such  a  rivalry 
among  domestics,  whose  sole  ambition  was  her  favor,  and 
who  had  been  trained  up  from  infancy,  each  to  their  several 
duties,  that  excellence  in  each  department  was  the  result  both 
of  habit  and  emulation  ;  while  her  young  protegees  were  early 
taught  the  value  and  importance  of  good  housewifery,  and 
were  sedulous  in  their  attention  to  little  matters  of  decoration 
and  elegance,  which  her  mind  was  too  much  engrossed  to 
attend  to ;  so  that  her  household  affairs,  ever  well  regulated, 
went  on  in  a  mechanical  kind  of  progress  that  seemed  to 
engage  little  of  her  attention,  though  her  vigilant  and  over 
ruling  mind  set  every  spring  of  action  in  motion. 

Having  thus  easily  and  speedily  arranged  the  details  of  the 
day,  she  retired  to  read  in  her  closet,  where  she  generally  re 
mained  till  about  eleven ;  when,  being  unequal  to  distant 
walks,  the  colonel  and  she,  and  some  of  her  elder  guests, 
passed  some  of  the  hotter  hours  among  those  embowering 
shades  of  her  garden  in  which  she  took  great  pleasure.  Here 
was  their  lyceum :  here  questions  in  religion  and  morality, 


OCCUPATIONS  OF  TPIE  DAY.  153 

too  weighty  for  table-talk,  were  leisurely  and  coolly  discussed, 
and  plans  of  policy  and  various  utility  arranged.  From  this 
retreat  they  sojourned  to  the  portico ;  and  while  the  colonel 
either  retired  to  write,  or  went  to  give  directions  to  his  ser 
vants,  she  sat  in  this  little  tribunal,  giving  audience  to  new 
settlers,  followers  of  the  army  left  in  hapless  dependence,  and 
others  who  wanted  assistance  or  advice,  or  hoped  she  would 
intercede  with  the  colonel  for  something  more  peculiarly  in 
his  way,  he  having  great  influence  with  the  colonial  govern 
ment.  At  the  usual  hour  her  dinner-party  assembled,  which 
was  generally  a  large  one  :  it  commonly  consisted  of  some  of 
her  intimate  friends  or  near  relations  ;  her  adopted  children, 
who  were  inmates  for  the  time  being ;  and  strangers,  some 
times  invited  merely  as  friendless  travellers,  on  the  score  of 
hospitality,  but  often  welcomed  for  some  time  as  stationary 
visitors,  on  account  of  worth  or  talents  that  gave  value  to 
their  society ;  and,  lastly,  military  guests,  selected  with  some 
discrimination  on  account  of  the  young  friends,  whom  they 
wished  not  only  to  protect,  but  cultivate  by  an  improving  asso 
ciation.  Conversation  here  was  always  rational,  generally 
instructive,  and  often  cheerful.  The  afternoon  frequently 
brought  with  it  a  new  set  of  guests.  Tea  was  always  drunk 
early  here,  and,  as  I  have  formerly  observed,  was  attended 
with  so  many  petty  luxuries  of  pastry,  confectionery,  &c.,  that 
it  might  well  be  accounted  a  meal  by  those  whose  early  and 
frugal  dinners  had  so  long  gone  by.  In  Albany  it  was  cus 
tomary,  after  the  heat  of  the  day  was  past,  for  the  young 
people  to  go  in  parties  of  three  or  four,  in  open  carriages,  to 
drink  tea  at  an  hour  or  two's  drive  from  home.  The  receiving 
and  entertaining  this  sort  of  company  generally  was  the  prov 
ince  of  the  younger  part  of  the  family ;  and  of  those  many 
came,  in  summer  evenings,  to  the  Flats,  when  tea,  which  was 
very  early,  was  over.  The  young  people,  and  those  who  were 
older,  took  their  different  walks  while  madame  sat  in  her 
portico,  engaged  in  what  might  comparatively  be  called  light 
reading,  —  essays,  biography,  poetry,  &c.,  —  till  the  younger 
party  set  out  on  their  return  home,  and  her  domestic  friends 


154  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

rejoined  her  in  her  portico,  where,  in  warm  evenings,  a  slight 
repast  was  sometimes  brought ;  but  they  more  frequently 
shared  the  last  and  most  truly  social  meal  within. 

Winter  made  little  difference  in  her  mode  of  occupying  her 
time.  She  then  always  retired  to  her  closet  to  read  at  stated 
periods. 

THE  SERVANTS  OF  THE  HOUSE. 

The  hospitalities  of  this  family  were  so  far  beyond  their 
apparent  income,  that  all  strangers  were  astonished  at  them. 
To  account  for  this,  it  must  be  observed,  that,  in  the  first 
place,  there  was,  perhaps,  scarce  an  instance  of  a  family  pos 
sessing  such  uncommonly  well-trained,  active,  and  diligent 
slaves  as  that  which  I  describe.  The  set  that  were  staid  ser 
vants  when  they  married  had  some  of  them  died  off  by  the 
time  I  knew  the  family ;  but  the  principal  roots  from  whence 
the  many  branches  then  flourishing  sprung  yet  remained. 
These  were  two  women,  who  had  come  originally  from  Africa 
while  very  young :  they  were  most  excellent  servants,  and  the 
mothers  or  grandmothers  of  the  whole  set,  except  one  white- 
woolled  negro-man,  who  in  my  time  sat  by.  the  chimney,  and 
made  shoes  for  all  the  rest. 

The  great  pride  and  happiness  of  these  sable  matrons  were 
to  bring  up  their  children  to  dexterity,  diligence,  and  obedi 
ence ;  Diana  being  determined  that  Maria's  children  should 
not  excel  hers  in  any  quality  which  was  a  recommendation  to 
favor,  and  Maria  equally  resolved  that  her  brood,  in  the  race 
of  excellence,  should  outstrip  Diana's.  Never  was  a  more 
fervent  competition.  That  of  Phillis  and  Brunetta,  in  "  The 
Spectator,"  was  a  trifle  to  it ;  and  it  was  extremely  difficult  to 
decide  on  their  respective  merits ;  for,  though  Maria's  son 
Prince  cut  down  wood  with  more  dexterity  and  despatch  than 
any  one  in  the  province,  the  mighty  Caesar,  son  of  Diana,  cut 
down  wheat,  and  thrashed  it,  better  than  he.  His  sister 
Betty,  who,  to  her  misfortune,  was  a  beauty  of  her  kind,  and 
possessed  wit  equal  to  her  beauty,  was  the  best  seamstress 
and  laundress,  by  far,  I  have  ever  known ;  and  the  plain,  un 
pretending  Rachel,  sister  to  Prince,  wife  to  Titus  (alias  Tyte), 


THE  SERVANTS  OF  THE  HOUSE.  155 

and  head  cook,  dressed  dinners  that  might  have  pleased 
Apicius.  I  record  my  old  humble  friends  by  their  real  names, 
because  they  allowedly  stood  at  the  head  of  their  own  class  ; 
and  distinction  of  every  kind  should  be  respected.  Besides, 
when  the  curtain  drops,  or,  indeed,  long  before  it  falls,  'tis, 
perhaps,  more  creditable  to  have  excelled  in  the  lowest  parts 
than  to  have  fallen  miserably  short  in  the  higher.  Of  the 
inferior  personages  in  this  dark  drama  I  have  been  character 
izing,  it  would  be  tedious  to  tell :  suffice  it,  that  besides  filling 
up  all  the  lower  departments  of  the  household,  and  cultivating 
to  the  highest  advantage  a  most  extensive  farm,  there  was  a 
thoroughbred  carpenter  and  shoemaker,  and  a  universal  genius 
who  made  canoes,  nets,  and  paddles,  shod  horses,  mended 
implements  of  husbandry,  managed  the  fishing  (in  itself  no 
small  department),  reared  hemp  and  tobacco,  and  spun  both, 
made  cider,  and  tended  wild  horses,  as  they  call  them,  which 
it  was  his  province  to  manage  and  to  break.  For  every  branch 
of  the  domestic  economy  there  was  a  person  allotted,  edu 
cated  for  the  purpose ;  and  this  society  was  kept  immaculate 
in  the  same  way  that  the  Quakers  preserve  the  rectitude  of 
theirs,  and,  indeed,  in  the  only  way  that  any  community  can 
be  preserved  from  corruption.  When  a  member  showed  symp 
toms  of  degeneracy,  he  was  immediately  expelled,  or,  in  other 
words  more  suitable  to  this  case,  sold.  Among  the  domes 
tics,  there  was  such  a  rapid  increase,  in  consequence  of  their 
marrying  very  early,  and  living  comfortably  without  care,  that, 
if  they  had  not  been  detached  off  with  the  young  people 
brought  up  in  the  house,  they  would  have  swarmed  like  an 
overstocked  hive. 

The  prevention  of  crimes  was  so  much  attended  to  in  this 
well-regulated  family,  that  there  was  very  little  punishment 
necessary  ;  none  that  I  ever  heard  of,  but  such  as  Diana  and 
Maria  inflicted  on  their  progeny  with  a  view  to  prevent  the 
dreaded  sentence  of  expulsion,  notwithstanding  the  petty 
rivalry  between  the  branches  of  the  two  original  stocks.  In 
termarriages  between  the  Montagues  and  Capulets  of  the 
kitchen  (which  frequently  took  place),  and  the  habit  of  living 


156  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

together  under  the  same  mild  though  regular  government, 
produced  a  general  cordiality  and  affection  among  all  the 
members  of  the  family,  who  were  truly  ruled  by  the  law  of 
love  ;  and  even  those  who  occasionally  differed  about  trifles 
had  an  unconscious  attachment  to  each  other,  which  showed 
itself  on  all  emergencies.  Treated  themselves  with  care  and 
gentleness,  they  were  careful  and  kind  with  regard  to  the  only 
inferiors  and  dependents  they  had,  the  domestic  animals. 

The  Princes  and  Caesars  of  the  Flats  had  as  much  to  tell 
of  the  sagacity  and  attachments  of  the  animals,  as  their  mis 
tress  related  of  their  own.  Numberless  anecdotes  that  de 
lighted  me  in  the  last  century,  I  would  recount,  but  fear  I 
should  not  find  my  audience  of  such  easy  belief  as  I  was,  nor 
so  convinced  of  the  integrity  of  my  informers.  One  circum 
stance  I  must  mention,  because  I  well  know  it  to  be  true. 
The  colonel  had  a  horse  which  he  rode  occasionally,  but 
which  oftener  travelled  with  Mrs.  Schuyler  in  an  open  car 
riage.  At  particular  times,  when  bringing  home  hay  or  corn, 
they  yoked  Wolf  (for  so  he  was  called),  in  a  wagon,  —  an 
indignity  to  which,  for  a  while,  he  unwillingly  submitted.  At 
length,  knowing  resistance  was  in  vain,  he  had  recourse  to 
stratagem ;  and,  whenever  he  saw  Tyte  marshalling  his  cav 
alry  for  service,  he  swam  over  to  the  island,  the  umbrageous 
and  tangled  border  of  which  I  formerly  mentioned.  There 
he  fed  with  fearless  impunity  till  he  saw  the  boat  approach. 
Whenever  that  happened,  he  plunged  into  the  thicket,  and  led 
his  followers  such  a  chase,  that  they  were  glad  to  give  up 
the  pursuit.  When  he  saw,  from  his  retreat,  that  the  work 
was  over,  and  the  fields  bare,  he  very  coolly  returned.  Being 
by  this  time  rather  old,  and  a  favorite,  the  colonel  allowed  him 
to  be  indulged  in  his  dislike  to  drudgery.  The  mind  which 
is  at  ease,  neither  stung  by  remorse  nor  goaded  by  ambition 
or  other  turbulent  passions,  nor  worn  with  anxiety  for  the 
supply  of  daily  wants,  nor  sunk  into  languor  by  stupid  idle 
ness,  forms  attachments  and  amusements,  to  which  those 
exalted  by  culture  would  not  stoop,  and  those  crushed  by 
want  and  care  could  not  rise.  Of  this  nature  was  the  attach- 


THE  RESOURCES  OF  THE  SCHUYLERS.      157 

ment  to  the  tame  animals,  which  the  domestics  appropriated  to 
themselves,  and  to  the  little  fanciful  gardens,  where  they  raised 
herbs  or  plants  of  difficult  culture,  to  sell,  and  give  to  their 
friends.  Each  negro  was  indulged  with  his  raccoon,  his  gray 
squirrel,  or  muskrat,  or  perhaps  his  beaver,  which  he  tamed  and 
attached  to  himself  by  daily  feeding  and  caressing  him  in  the 
farm-yard.  One  was  sure,  about  all  such  houses,  to  find  these 
animals,  in  which  their  masters  took  the  highest  pleasure. 

THE  RESOURCES  OF  >THE  SCHUYLERS. 

It  may  appear  extraordinary,  with  so  moderate  an  income 
as  could  in  those  days  be  derived  even  from  a  considerable 
estate  in  that  country,  how  madame  found  means  to  support 
that  liberal  hospitality  which  they  constantly  exercised.  I 
know  the  utmost  they  could  derive  from  their  lands,  and  it 
was  not  much  :  some  money  they  had,  but  nothing  adequate 
to  the  dignity,  simple  as  it  was,  of  their  style  of  living,  and 
the  very  large  family  they  always  drew  around  them.  But 
with  regard  to  the  plenty,  one  might  almost  call  it  luxury,  of 
their  table,  it  was  supplied  from  a  variety  of  sources,  that 
rendered  it  less  expensive  than  could  be  imagined.  Indians, 
grateful  for  the  numerous  benefits  they  were  daily  receiving 
from  them,  were  constantly  bringing  the  smaller  game,  and, 
in  winter  and  spring,  loads  of  venison.  Little  money  passed 
from  one  hand  to  another  in  the  country  ;  but  there  was  con 
stantly,  as  there  always  is  in  primitive  abodes  before  the  age 
of  calculation  begins,  a  kindly  commerce  of  presents.  The 
people  of  New  York  and  Rhode  Island,  several  of  whom 
were  wont  to  pass  a  part  of  the  summer  with  the  colonel's 
family,  were  loaded  with  all  the  productions  of  the  farm  and 
river.  When  they  went  home,  they  again  never  failed,  at  the 
season,  to  send  a  large  supply  of  oysters,  and  all  other  shell 
fish,  which  at  New  York  abounded,  besides  great  quantities 
of  tropical  fruit,  which,  from  the  short  run  between  Jamaica 
and  New  York,  were  there  almost  as  plenty  and  cheap  as  in 
their  native  soil.  Their  farm  yielded  them  abundantly  all  that, 
in  general,  agriculture  can  supply  ;  and  the  young  relatives 


158  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

who  grew  up  about  the  house  were  rarely  a  clay  without  bring 
ing  some  provision  from  the  wood  or  the  stream.  The 
negroes,  whose  business  lay  frequently  in  the  woods,  never  will 
ingly  went  there,  or  anywhere  else,  without  a  gun,  and  rarely 
came  back  empty  handed.  Presents  of  wine,  then  a  very  usual 
thing  to  send  to  friends  to  whom  you  wished  to  show  a  mark 
of  gratitude,  came  very  often,  possibly  from  the  friends  of  the 
young  people  who  were  reared  and  instructed  in  that  house 
of  benediction.  As  there  were  no  duties  paid  for  the  entrance 
of  any  commodity  there,  wine,  rum,  and  sugar  were  cheaper 
than  can  easily  be  imagined  ;  and  in  cider  they  abounded. 

The  negroes  of  the  three  truly  united  brothers,  not  having 
home  employment  in  winter,  after  preparing  fuel,  used  to  cut 
down  trees,  and  carry  them  to  an  adjoining  sawmill,  where, 
in  a  very  short  time,  they  made  great  quantities  of  planks, 
staves,  &c.,  which  is  usually  styled  lumber,  for  the  West 
India  market.  And  when  a  shipload  of  their  flour,  lumber, 
and  salted  provisions,  was  accumulated,  some  relative,  for  their 
behoof,  freighted  a  vessel,  and  went  out  to  the  West  Indies 
with  it.  In  this  Stygian  schooner,  the  departure  of  which 
was  always  looked  forward  to  with  unspeakable  horror,  all  the 
stubborn  or  otherwise  unmanageable  slaves  were  embarked, 
to  be  sold  by  way  of  punishment.  This  produced  such  salu 
tary  terror,  that  preparing  the  lading  of  this  fatal  vessel  gen 
erally  operated  as  a  temporary  reform,  at  least.  When  its 
cargo  was  discharged  in  the  West  Indies,  it  took  in  a  lading 
of  wine,  rum,  sugar,  coffee,  chocolate,  and  all  other  West 
India  productions,  paying  for  whatever  fell  short  of  the  value, 
and,  returning  to  Albany,  sold  the  surplus  to  their  friends, 
after  reserving  to  themselves  a  most  liberal  supply  of  all  the 
articles  so  imported.  Thus  they  had  not  only  a  profusion  of 
all  the  requisites  for  good  housekeeping,  but  had  it  in  their 
power  to  do  what  was  not  unusual  there  in  wealthy  families, 
though  none  carried  it  so  far  as  these  worthies. 

In  process  of  time,  as  people  multiplied,  when  a  man  had 
eight  or  ten  children  to  settle  in  life,  and  these  marrying  early, 
and  all  their  families  increasing  fast,  though  they  always  were 


A    UNIVERSAL  AUNT.  159 

considered  as  equals,  and  each  kept  a  neat  house,  and  decent 
outside,  yet  it  might  be  that  some  of  them  were  far  less  suc 
cessful  than  others  in  their  various  efforts  to  support  their 
families.  But  these  deficiencies  were  supplied  in  a  quiet  and 
delicate  way  by  presents  of  every  thing  a  family  required, 
sent  from  all  their  connections  and  acquaintances,  which, 
where  there  was  a  continual  interchange  of  sausages,  pigs, 
roasting-pieces,  &c.,  from  one  house  to  another,  excited  little 
attention  ;  but,  when  aunt's  West  India  cargo  arrived,  all  the 
families  of  this  description  within  her  reach  had  an  ample 
boon  sent  them  of  her  new  supply. 

A  UNIVERSAL  AUNT. 

Having  become  distinguished  through  all  the  northern 
provinces,  the  common  people,  and  the  inferior  class  of  the 
military,  had  learned  from  the  Canadians  who  frequented  her 
house  to  call  Madame  Schuyler  aunt.  But  by  one  or  other 
of  these  appellations  she  was  universally  known  ;  and  a  kindly 
custom  prevailed,  for  those  who  were  received  into  any  de 
gree  of  intimacy  in  her  family,  to  address  her  as  their  aunt, 
though  not  in  the  least  related.  This  was  done  oftener  to 
her  than  others,  because  she  excited  more  respect  and  affec 
tion  ;  but  it  had  in  some  degree  the  sanction  of  custom.  The 
Albanians  were  sure  to  call  each  other  aunt  or  cousin  as  far 
as  the  most  strained  construction  would  carry  those  relations. 
To  strangers  they  were,  indeed,  very  shy  at  first,  but  extremely 
kind.  When  they  not  only  proved  themselves  estimable,  but 
by  a  condescension  to  their  customs,  and  acquiring  a  smatter 
ing  of  their  language,  ceased  to  be  strangers,  then  they  were, 
in  a  manner,  adopted  ;  for  the  first  seal  of  cordial  intimacy 
among  the  young  people  was  to  call  each  other  cousin.  And 
thus,  in  an  hour  of  playful  or  tender  intimacy,  I  have  known 
it  more  than  once  begin  :  "  I  think  you  like  me  well  enough, 
and  I  am  sure  I  like  you  very  well :  come,  why  should  not  we 
be  cousins  ?  "  —  "I  am  sure  I  should  like  very  well  to  be  your 
cousin  ;  for  I  have  no  cousins  of  my  own  where  I  can  reach 
them."  —  "Well,  then,  you  shall  be  my  cousin  for  ever  and 


I6O  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

ever."  In  this  uncouth  language,  and  in  this  artless  manner, 
were  these  leagues  of  amity  commenced.  Such  an  intimacy  was 
never  formed,  unless  the  object  of  it  were  a  kind  of  favorite 
with  the  parents,  who  immediately  commenced  uncle  and 
aunt  to  the  new  cousin.  This,  however,  was  a  high  privi 
lege,  only  to  be  kept  by  fidelity  and  good  conduct.  If  you 
exposed  your  new  cousin's  faults,  or  repeated  her  minutest 
secrets,  or  by  any  breach  of  constancy  lost  favor,  it  was  as 
bad  as  refusing  a  challenge  :  you  were  coldly  received  every 
where,  and  could  never  regain  your  footing  in  society. 

Aunt's  title,  however,  became  current  everywhere,  and 
was  most  completely  confirmed  in  the  year  1750,  when  she 
gave  with  more  than  common  solemnity  a  kind  of  annual 
feast,  at  which  the  colonel's  two  brothers  and  sisters,  aunt's 
sister,  Mrs.  Cornelius  Cuyler,  and  their  families,  with  several 
other  young  people  related  to  them,  assembled.  It  was  not 
given  on  a  stated  day,  but  at  the  time  when  most  of  these 
kindred  could  be  collected.  This  year  I  have  often  heard 
my  good  friend  commemorate  as  that  on  which  their  family 
stock  of  happiness  felt  the  first  diminution.  The  feast  was 
made,  and  attended  by  all  the  collateral  branches  (consisting 
of  fifty-two)  who  had  a  claim  by  marriage  or  descent  to  call 
the  colonel  and  my  friend  uncle  and  aunt,  besides  their  par 
ents.  Among  these  were  reckoned  three  or  four  grandchil 
dren  of  their  brothers.  At  this  grand  gala  there  could  be  no 
less  than  sixty  persons  :  but  many  of  them  were  doomed  to 
meet  no  more  ;  for  the  next  year  the  smallpox  (always  pe 
culiarly  mortal  here,  where  *it  was  improperly  treated  in  the 
old  manner)  broke  out  with  great  virulence,  and  raged  like  a 
plague.  But  none  of  those  relatives  whom  Mrs.  Schuyler 
had  domesticated  suffered  by  it ;  and  the  skill  which  she  had 
acquired  from  the  communications  of  the  military  surgeons 
who  were  wont  to  frequent  her  house  enabled  her  to  admin 
ister  advice  and  assistance  which  essentially  benefited  many 
of  the  patients  in  whom  she  was  particularly  interested ; 
though  even  her  influence  could  not  prevail  on  people  to 
have  recourse  to  inoculation. 


SIR    WILLIAM  JOHNSON.  l6l 

SIR  WILLIAM  JOHNSON. 

By  the  advice  of  the  Schuylers,  there  was  now  on  the 
Mohawk  River  a  superintendent  of  Indian  affairs,  the  impor 
tance  of  which  charge  began  to  be  fully  understood.  He  was 
regularly  appointed  and  paid  by  government.  This  was  the 
justly  celebrated  Sir  William  Johnson,  who  held  an  office 
difficult  both  to  define  and  execute.  He  might,  indeed,  be 
called  the  tribune  of  the  Five  Nations  :  their  claims  he  as 
serted;  their  rights  he  protected;  and  over  their  minds  he 
possessed  a  greater  sway  than  any  other  individual  had  ever 
attained.  He  was,  indeed,  calculated  to  conciliate  and  retain 
the  affections  of  this  brave  people,  possessing,  in  common 
with  them,  many  of  those  peculiarities  of  mind  and  manners 
that  distinguished  them  from  others.  He  was  an  uncommonly 
tall,  well-made  man,  with  a  fine  countenance,  which,  however, 
had  rather  an  expression  of  dignified  sedateness,  approaching 
to  melancholy.  He  appeared  to  be  taciturn,  never  wasting 
words  on  matters  of  no  importance,  but  highly  eloquent  when 
the  occasion  called  forth  his  powers.  He  possessed  intuitive 
sagacity,  and  the  most  entire  command  of  temper  and  of 
countenance.  He  did  by  no  means  lose  sight  of  his  own  in 
terest,  but,  on  the  contrary,  raised  himself  to  power  and 
wealth  in  an  open  and  active  manner,  not  disdaining  any  hon 
orable  means  of  benefiting  himself ;  but  at  the  same  time  the 
bad  policy,  as  well  as  meanness,  of  sacrificing  respectability 
to  snatching  at  petty  present  advantages,  were  so  obvious  to 
him,  that  he  laid  the  foundation  of  his  future  prosperity  on 
the  broad  and  deep  basis  of  honorable  dealing,  accompanied 
by  the  most  vigilant  attention  to  the  objects  he  had  in  view ; 
acting  so  as,  without  the  least  departure  from  integrity  on  the 
one  hand,  or  inattention  to  his  affairs  on  the  other,  to  give,  by 
his  manner  of  conducting  himself,  an  air  of  magnanimity  to 
his  character,  that  made  him  the  object  of  universal  confi 
dence.  He  purchased  from  the  Indians  (having  the  grant 
confirmed  by  his  sovereign)  a  large  and  fertile  tract  of  land 
upon  the  Mohawk  River ;  where,  having  cleared  and  culti- 


1 62  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

vated  the  ground,  he  built  two  spacious  and  convenient  places 
of  residence,  known  afterwards  by  the  names  of  Johnson 
Castle  and  Johnson  Hall.  The  first  was  on  a  fine  eminence, 
stockaded  round,  and  slightly  fortified :  the  last  was  built  on 
the  site  of  the  river,  on  a  most  fertile  and  delightful  plain, 
surrounded  with  an  ample  and  well-cultivated  domain,  and 
that  again  encircled  by  European  settlers,  who  had  first  come 
there  as  architects  or  workmen,  and  had  been  induced  by  Sir 
William's  liberality,  and  the  singular  beauty  of  the  district,  to 
continue.  His  trade  with  the  Five  Nations  was  very  much  for 
their  advantage  ;  he  supplying  them  on  more  equitable  terms 
than  any  trader,  and  not  indulging  the  excesses  in  regard  to 
strong  liquors,  which  others  were  too  easily  induced  to  do. 
The  castle  contained  the  store  in  which  all  goods  meant  for 
the  Indian  traffic  were  laid  up,  and  all  the  peltry  received  in 
exchange.  The  hall  was  his  summer  residence,  and  the  place 
round  which  his  greatest  improvements  were  made.  Here 
this  singular  man  lived  like  a  little  sovereign,  kept  an  excel 
lent  table  for  strangers  and  officers  (whom  the  course  of  their 
duty  now  frequently  led  into  these  wilds) ;  and  by  confiding 
entirely  in  the  Indians,  and  treating  them  with  unvaried  truth 
and  justice,  without  ever  yielding  to  solicitation  what  he  had 
once  refused,  he  taught  them  to  repose  entire  confidence  in 
him.  He,  in  his  turn,  became  attached  to  them,  wore  in  winter 
almost  entirely  their  dress  and  ornaments,  and  contracted  a 
kind  of  alliance  with  them :  for,  becoming  a  widower  in  the 
prime  of  life,  he  had  connected  himself  with  an  Indian  maiden, 
daughter  to  a  sachem,  who  possessed  an  uncommonly  agree 
able  person  and  good  understanding ;  and  whether  ever  for 
mally  married  to  him  according  to  our  usage,  or  not,  contrived 
to  live  with  him  in  great  union  and  affection  all  his  life.  So 
perfect  was  his  dependence  on  those  people,  whom  his  forti 
tude  and  other  manly  virtues  had  attached  to  him,  that  when 
they  returned  from  their  summer  excursions,  and  exchanged 
the  last  year's  furs  for  fire-arms,  &c.,  they  used  to  pass  a  few 
days  at  the  castle,  when  his  family  and  most  of  his  domestics 
were  down  at  the  hall.  There  they  were  all  liberally  enter- 


SIR    WILLIAM  JOHNSON.  163 

tained  by  their  friend ;  and  five  hundred  of  them  have  been 
known,  for  nights  together,  after  drinking  pretty  freely,  to  lie 
around  him  on  the  floor,  while  he  was  the  only  white  person 
in  a  house  containing  great  quantities  of  every  thing  that  was 
to  them  valuable  or  desirable. 

While  Sir  William  thus  united  in  his  mode  of  life  the  calm 
urbanity  of  a  liberal  and  extensive  trader  with  the  splendid 
hospitality,  the  numerous  attendance,  and  the  plain  though 
dignified  manners,  of  an  ancient  baron,  the  female  part  of  his 
family  were  educated  in  a  manner  so  entirely  dissimilar  from 
that  of  all  other  young  people  of  their  sex  and  station,  that, 
as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  it  is  worthy  a  recital.  These  two 
young  ladies,  his  daughters,  inherited  in  a  great  measure  the 
personal  advantages  and  strength  of  understanding  for  which 
their  father  was  so  distinguished.  Their  mother,  dying  when 
they  were  young,  bequeathed  the  care  of  them  to  a  friend. 
This  friend  was  the  widow  of  an  officer  who  had  fallen  in 
battle.  I  am  not  sure  whether  she  was  devout,  and  shunned 
the  world  for  fear  of  its  pollutions  ;  or  romantic,  and  despised 
its  selfish,  bustling  spirit :  but  so  it  was  that  she  seemed 
utterly  to  forget  it,  and  devoted  herself  to  her  fair  pupils.  To 
these  she  taught  needlework  of  the  most  elegant  and  inge 
nious  kinds,  reading,  and  writing.  Thus  quietly  passed  their 
childhood  ;  their  monitress  not  taking  the  smallest  concern  in 
family  management,  nor,  indeed,  the  least  interest  in  any 
worldly  thing  but  themselves  :  far  less  did  she  inquire  about 
the  fashions  or  diversions  which  prevailed  in  a  world  she  had 
renounced,  and  from  which  she  seemed  to  wish  her  pupils  to 
remain  forever  estranged.  Never  was  any  thing  so  uniform 
as  their  dress,  their  occupations,  and  the  general  tenor  of 
their  lives.  In  the  morning  they  rose  early,  read  their  prayer- 
book  I  believe,  but  certainly  their  Bible,  fed  their  birds, 
tended  their  flowers,  and  breakfasted ;  then  they  were  em 
ployed  for  some  hours  with  unwearied  perseverance  at  fine 
needlework  for  the  ornamental  parts  of  dress,  which  were  the 
fashion  of  the  day,  without  knowing  to  what  use  they  wefe  to 
be  put,  as  they  never  wore  them,  and  had  not,  at  the  age  of 


164  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

sixteen,  ever  seen  a  lady,  excepting  each  other  and  their  gov 
erness.  They  then  read,  as  long  as  they  chose,  either  the 
voluminous  romances  of  the  last  century,  of  which  their  friend 
had  an  ample  collection,  or  Rollin's  Ancient  History,  the  only 
books  they  had  ever  seen.  After  dinner  they  regularly  in 
summer  took  a  long  walk,  or  an  excursion  in  the  sledge  in 
winter  with  their  friend  ;  and  then  returned,  and  resumed  their 
wonted  occupations,  with  the  sole  variation  of  a  stroll  in  the 
garden  in  summer,  and  a  game  at  chess  or  shuttlecock  in 
winter.  Their  dress  was  to  the  full  as  simple  and  uniform  as 
every  thing  else.  They  wore  wrappers  of  the  finest  chintz, 
and  green  silk  petticoats  ;  and  this  the  whole  year  round  with 
out  variation.  Their  hair,  which  was  long  and  beautiful,  was 
tied  behind  with  a  simple  ribbon.  A  large  calash  shaded 
each  from  the  sun  ;  and  in  winter  they  had  long  scarlet  man 
tles,  that  covered  them  from  head  to  foot.  Their  father  did 
not  live  with  them,  but  visited  them  every  day  in  their  apart 
ment.  This  innocent  and  uniform  life  they  led  till  the  death 
of  their  monitress,  which  happened  when  the  eldest  was  not 
quite  seventeen. 

BURNING  OF  THE  HOUSE  AT  THE  FLATS. 

It  was  at  this  time  (1759),  when  she  was  in  the  very  acme 
of  her  reputation,  and  her  name  was  never  mentioned  without 
some  added  epithet  of  respect  or  affection,  that  Madame 
Schuyler's  house,  so  long  the  receptacle  of  all  that  was  good 
or  intelligent,  and  the  asylum  of  all  that  was  helpless  and 
unfortunate,  was  entirely  consumed  before  her  eyes. 

In  the  summer  of  this  year,  as  Gen.  Bradstreet  was  riding 
by  the  Flats  one  day,  and  proposing  to  call  on  madame,  he 
saw  her  sitting  in  a  great  chair  under  the  little  avenue  of 
cherry-trees  that  led  from  her  house  to  the  road.  All  the 
way  as  he  approached,  he  had  seen  smoke,  and  at  last  flames, 
bursting  out  from  the  top  of  her  house.  He  was  afraid  to 
alarm  her  suddenly ;  but,  when  he  told  her,  she  heard  it  with 
the  utmost  composure,  pointed  out  the  likeliest  means  to 
check  the  fire,  and  ordered  the  neighbors  to  be  summoned, 


BURNING  OF  THE  HOUSE  AT  THE  FLATS.   1 65 

and  the  most  valuable  goods  first  removed,  without  ever 
attempting  to  go  over  to  the  house  herself,  where  she  knew 
she  could  be  of  no  service  ;  but,  with  the  most  admirable 
presence  of  mind,  she  sat  still  with  a  placid  countenance, 
regulating  and  ordering  every  thing  in  the  most  judicious 
manner,  and  with  as  much  composure  as  if  she  had  nothing 
to  lose.  When  evening  came,  of  that  once  happy  mansion, 
not  a  single  beam  was  left ;  and  the  scorched  brick  walls  were 
all  that  remained  to  mark  where  it  had  stood. 

Madame  could  not  be  said  to  be  left  without  a  dwelling, 
having  a  house  in  Albany  rather  larger  than  the  one  thus  de 
stroyed.  But  she  was  fondly  attached  to  the  spot  which  had 
been  the  scene  of  so  much  felicity,  and  was  rendered  more 
dear  to  her  by  retaining  within  its  bounds  the  remains  of  her 
beloved  partner.  She  removed  to  Pedrom's  house  for  the 
night.  The  news  of  what  had  happened  spread  everywhere  ; 
and  she  had  the  comfort  of  knowing,  in  consequence  of  this 
misfortune,  better  than  she  could  by  any  other  means,  how 
great  a  degree  of  public  esteem  and  private  gratitude  she  had 
excited.  The  next  day  people  came  from  all  quarters  to  con 
dole,  and  ask  her  directions  where  and  how  she  would  choose 
to  have  another  house  built ;  and  in  a  few  days  the  ground 
was  covered  with  bricks,  timber,  and  other  materials,  brought 
there  by  her  friends  in  voluntary  kindness.  It  is  to  be 
observed  that  the  people  in  the  interior  of  New  York  were  so 
exceedingly  skilful  in  the  use,  not  only  of  the  axe,  but  of  all 
ordinary  tools  used  in  planing  and  joining  timber,  that,  with 
the  aid  of  a  regular  carpenter  or  two  to  carry  on  the  nicer 
parts  of  the  work,  a  man  could  build  an  ordinary  house,  if  it 
were  a  wooden  one,  with  very  few  more  than  his  own  domes 
tics.  It  can  scarce  be  credited  that  this  house,  begun  in 
August,  was  ready  for  aunt's  reception  against  winter,  which 
here  begins  very  early.  But  Gen.  Bradstreet  had  sent  some 
of  the  king's  workmen,  considering  them  as  employed  for  the 
public  service  while  carrying  on  this  building.  The  most 
unpleasant  circumstance  about  this  new  dwelling  was  the 
melancholy  hiatus  which  appeared  in  front,  where  the  former 


1 66  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

large  house  had  stood,  and  where  the  deep  and  spacious  cel 
lars  still  yawned  in  gloomy  desolation.  Madame,  who  no 
longer  studied  appearance,  but  merely  thought  of  a  tempora 
ry  accommodation  for  a  life  which  neither  she  nor  any  one 
expected  to  be  a  long  one,  ordered  a  broad  wooden  bridge,  like 
those  we  see  over  rivers.  This  bridge  was  furnished  with 
seats,  like  a  portico ;  and  this,  with  the  high  walls  of  the 
burnt  house,  which  were  a  kind  of  screen  before  the  new  one, 
gave  the  whole  the  appearance  of  an  ancient  ruin. 

Madame  did  not  find  the  winter  pass  comfortably.  That 
road,  now  that  matters  were  regularly  settled,  was  no  longer 
the  constant  resort  of  her  military  friends.  Her  favorite 
nieces  were  too  engaging,  and  too  much  admired,  to  leave 
room  to  expect  they  should  remain  with  her.  She  found  her 
house  comparatively  cold  and  inconvenient,  and  the  winter 
long  and  comfortless.  She  could  not  now  easily  go  the  dis 
tance  to  church.  Pedrom,  that  affectionate  and  respected 
brother,  was  now,  by  increasing  deafness,  disqualified  from 
being  a  companion  ;  and  Sister  Susan,  infirm  and  cheerless, 
was,  for  the  most  part,  confined  to  her  chamber.  Under 
these  circumstances,  she  was  at  length  prevailed  on  to  remove 
to  Albany.  The  Flats  she  gave  in  lease  to  Pedrom's  son 
Stephen.  The  house  and  surrounding  grounds  were  let  to  an 
Irish  gentleman,  who  came  over  to  America  to  begin  a  new 
course  of  life,  after  spending  his  fortune  in  a  fashionable 
dissipation.  On  coming  to  America,  he  found  that  there 
was  an  intermediate  state  of  hardship  and  self-denial  to  be 
encountered,  before  he  could  enter  on  that  fancied  Arcadia 
which  he  thought  was  to  be  found  in  every  wood.  He  settled 
his  family  in  this  temporary  dwelling,  while  he  went  to 
traverse  the  provinces  in  search  of  some  unforfeited  Eden, 
where  the  rose  had  no  thorn,  and  the  curse  of  ceaseless 
labor  had  not  begun  to  operate.  Madame  found  reason  to 
be  highly  satisfied  with  the  change.  She  had  mills  which 
supplied  her  with  bread ;  her  slaves  cut  and  brought  home 
firewood ;  she  had  a  good  garden  ;  and  fruit  and  every  other 
rural  dainty  came  to  her  in  the  greatest  abundance.  All  her 


MRS.    GRANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  l6/ 

former  proteges  and  friends  in  different  quarters  delighted 
to  send  their  tribute  ;  and  this  was  merely  an  interchange  of 
kindness. 

MRS.  GRANT'S  EARLY  LIFE. 

It  now  remains  to  say  how  the  writer  of  these  pages  became 
so  well  acquainted  with  the  subject  of  these  memoirs. 

My  father  was  at  this  time  a  subaltern  in  the  Fifty-fifth 
Regiment.  That  corps  was  then  stationed  at  Oswego ;  but, 
during  the  busy  and  warlike  period  I  have  been  describing, 
my  mother  and  I  were  boarded  in  the  country  below  Albany, 
with  the  most  worthy  people  imaginable,  with  whom  we  ever 
after  kept  up  a  cordial  friendship.  My  father,  wishing  to  see 
his  family,  was  indulged  with  permission,  and  at  the  same 
time  ordered  to  take  the  command  of  an  additional  company, 
who  were  to  come  up,  and  to  purchase  for  the  regiment  all 
the  stores  they  should  require  for  the  winter ;  which  proved 
a  most  extensive  commission.  In  the  month  of  October  he 
set  out  on  this  journey,  or  voyage  rather,  in  which  it  was 
settled  that  my  mother  and  I  should  accompany  him.  We 
were,  I  believe,  the  first  females  above  the  very  lowest  ranks 
who  had  ever  penetrated  so  far  into  this  remote  wilderness. 
Certainly  never  was  joy  greater  than  that  which  filled  my 
childish  mind  on  setting  out  on  this  journey.  I  had  before 
seen  little  of  my  father  ;  and  the  most  I  knew  of  him  was 
from  the  solicitude  I  had  heard  expressed  on  his  account,  and 
the  fear  of  his  death  after  every  battle.  I  was,  indeed,  a  little 
ashamed  of  having  a  military  father,  brought  up,  as  I  had 
mostly  been,  in  a  Dutch  family,  and  speaking  that  language 
as  fluently  as  my  own ;  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  I  had  felt  so 
awkward  at  seeing  all  my  companions  have  fathers  to  talk 
and  complain  to,  while  I  had  none,  that  I  thought,  upon  the 
whole,  it  was  a  very  good  thing  to  have  a  father  of  any  kind. 
The  scarlet  coat,  which  I  had  been  taught  to  consider  as  the 
symbol  of  wickedness,  disgusted  me  in  some  degree.  But 
then,  to  my  great  comfort,  I  found  my  father  did  not  swear, 
and  again,  to  my  unspeakable  delight,  that  he  prayed.  A 
soldier  pray !  Was  it  possible  ?  And  should  I  really  see  my 


1 68  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

father  in  heaven  ?  How  transporting  !  By  a  sudden  revolu 
tion  of  opinion,  I  now  thought  my  father  the  most  charming 
of  all  beings  ;  and  the  overflowings  of  my  good  will  reached  to 
the  whole  company,  because  they  wore  the  same  color,  and 
seemed  to  respect  and  obey  him.  I  dearly  loved  idleness  too, 
and  the  more  because  my  mother,  who  delighted  in  needle 
work,  confined  me  too  much  to  it.  What  joys  were  mine  !  —  to 
be  idle  for  a  fortnight,  seeing  new  woods,  rivers,  and  animals 
every  day.  Even  then  the  love  of  Nature  was,  in  my  young 
bosom,  a  passion  productive  of  incessant  delight.  I  had,  too, 
a  primer,  two  hymns,  and  a  ballad  ;  and  these  I  read  over  and 
over  with  great  diligence.  At  intervals  my  attention  was 
agreeably  engaged  by  the  details  the  soldiers  gave  my  father 
of  their  manner  of  living  and  fighting  in  the  woods,  &c. ;  and 
with  these  the  praises  of  madame  were  often  mingled.  I 
thought  of  her  continually  :  every  thing  great  I  heard  about 
her,  even  her  size,  had  its  impression.  She  became  the  heroine 
of  my  childish  imagination  ;  and  I  thought  of  her  as  some 
thing  both  awful  and  admirable.  We  had  the  surgeon  of  the 
regiment  and  another  officer  with  us.  They  talked,  too,  of 
madame,  of  Indians,  of  battles,  and  of  ancient  history.  Sitting 
from  morning  to  night,  musing  in  a  boat,  contemplating  my 
father,  who  appeared  to  me  a  hero  and  a  saint,  and  thinking 
of  Aunt  Schuyler,  who  filled  up  my  whole  mind  with  the 
grandeur  with  which  my  fancy  had  invested  her,  and  then 
having  my  imagination  continually  amused  with  the  variety  of 
noble  wild  scenes  which  the  beautiful  banks  of  the  Mohawk 
afforded,  I  am  convinced  I  thought  more  in  that  fortnight, 
that  is  to  say,  acquired  more  ideas,  and  took  more  lasting 
impressions,  than  ever  I  did  in  the  same  space  of  time  in  my 
life.  This,  however  foreign  it  may  appear  to  my  subject,  I 
mention  as  so  far  connecting  with  it,  that  it  accounts,  in  some 
measure,  for  that  development  of  thought  which  led  me  to 
take  such  ready  and  strong  impressions  from  aunt's  conversa 
tion  when  afterwards  I  knew  her. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  MILTON.  169 

INTRODUCTION  TO  MILTON. 

A  company  of  the  Fifty-fifth  was  this  summer  ordered  to 
occupy  the  fort  at  Albany.  This  was  commanded  by  a  saga 
cious  veteran  called  Winepress.  My  father  did  not  exactly 
belong  to  this  company  ;  but  he  wished  to  return  to  Albany, 
where  he  was  known  and  liked  ;  and  the  colonel  thought,  from 
his  steadiness  and  experience,  he  would  be  particularly  useful 
in  paying  the  detached  parties,  and  purchasing  for  the  regi 
ment  such  stores  as  they  might  have  occasion  for.  We  set 
out  in  our  batteaux ;  and  I  consoled  myself  for  not  only 
leaving  Oswego,  but  (what  was  nearer  my  heart)  a  tame  par 
tridge  and  six  pigeons,  by  the  hopes  of  wandering  through 
Woodcreek,  and  sleeping  in  the  woods.  In  both  these  par 
ticulars  I  was  disappointed.  Our  boats,  being  lighter,  made 
better  way  ;  and  we  were  received  in  new  settlements  a  little 
distant  from  the  river.  The  most  important  occurrence  to 
me  happened  the  first  day.  On  that  evening  we  returned  to 
Fort  Bruerton  :  I  found  Capt.  Campbell  delighted  with  my 
reading,  my  memory,  and  my  profound  admiration  of  the 
friendship  betwixt  David  and  Jonathan.  We  staid  the  most 
of  the  next  day.  I  was  much  captivated  with  the  copper 
plates  in  an  edition  of  "  Paradise  Lost,"  which,  on  that  account, 
he  had  given  me  to  admire.  When  I  was  coming  away,  he 
said  to  me,  "  Keep  that  book,  my  dear  child :  I  foretell  that 
the  time  will  come  when  you  will  take  pleasure  in  it."  Never 
did  a  present  produce  such  joy  and  gratitude.  I  thought 
I  was  dreaming,  and  looked  at  it  a  hundred  times  before  I 
could  believe  any  thing  so  fine  was  really  my  own.  I  tried  to 
read  it,  and  almost  cried  with  vexation  when  I  found  I  could 
not  understand  it.  At  length  I  quitted  it  in  despair,  yet 
always  said  to  myself,  "  I  shall  be  wiser  next  year." 

The  next  year  (1762)  came,  and  found  me  at  Albany,  if  not 
wiser,  more  knowing.  Again  I  was  shut  up  in  a  fort,  solemn 
and  solitary.  I  had  no  companion,  and  was  never  allowed 
to  go  out,  except  with  my  mother ;  and  that  was  very  seldom 
indeed.  All  the  fine  forenoons  I  sat  and  sewed  ;  and,  when 


I/O  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

others  went  to  play  in  the  evening,  I  was  very  often  sent  up 
to  a  large  waste  room  to  get  a  long  task  by  heart  of  some 
thing  very  grave  and  repulsive.  In  this  waste  room,  however, 
lay  an  old  tattered  dictionary,  Bailey's,  I  think,  which  proved 
a  treasure  to  me,  the  very  few  books  we  had  being  all  reli 
gious  or  military.  I  had  returned  to  my  Milton,  which  I 
conned  so  industriously,  that  I  got  it  almost  by  heart,  as  far 
as  I  went,  yet  took  care  to  go  no  farther  than  I  understood. 
To  make  out  this  point,  when  any  one  encouraged  me  by 
speaking  kindly  to  me,  I  was  sure  to  ask  the  meaning  of 
some  word  or  phrase  ;  and,  when  I  found  people  were  not 
all  willing  or  able  to  gratify  me,  I  at  length  had  recourse 
to  my  waste  room  and  tattered  dictionary,  which  I  found  a 
perpetual  fountain  of  knowledge.  Consequently,  the  waste 
room,  formerly  a  gloomy  prison,  which  I  thought  of  with 
horror,  became  now  the  scene  of  all  my  enjoyment ;  and,  the 
moment  I  was  dismissed  from  my  task,  I  flew  to  it  with  anti 
cipated  delight ;  for  there  were  my  treasures,  Milton  and  the 
ragged  dictionary,  which  were  now  become  the  light  of  my 
eyes.  I  studied  the  dictionary  with  indefatigable  diligence, 
which  I  began  now  to  consider  as  very  entertaining.  I  was 
extremely  sorry  for  the  fallen  angels,  deeply  interested  in 
their  speeches,  and  so  well  acquainted  with  their  names,  that 
I  could  have  called  the  roll  of  them  with  all  the  ease  imagina 
ble.  Time  ran  on  :  I  was  eight  years  old,  and  quite  unedu 
cated,  except  reading  and  plain  work.  When  company  came, 
I  was  considered  as  in  the  way,  and  sent  up  to  my  waste 
room ;  but  here  lay  my  whole  pleasure,  for  I  had  neither 
companions  nor  amusement. 

MILTON  INTRODUCES  HER  TO  AUNT  SCHUYLER. 

My  father,  not  being  satisfied  with  the  single  apartment 
allotted  to  him  by  the  new-comers,  removed  to  the  town, 
where  a  friend  of  his,  a  Scotch  merchant,  gave  him  a  lodging 
in  his  own  house,  next  to  that  very  Madame  Schuyler  who 
had  been  so  long  my  daily  thought  and  nightly  dream.  We 
had  not  been  long  there  when  aunt  heard  that  my  father  was 


INTRODUCED   TO  AUNT  SCHUYLER.         I /I 

a  good,  plain,  upright  man,  without  pretensions,  but  very  well 
principled.  She  sent  a  married  lady,  the  wife  of  her  favorite 
nephew,  who  resided  with  her  at  the  time,  to  ask  us  to  spend 
the  evening  with  her.  I  think  I  have  not  been  on  any  occa 
sion  more  astonished,  than  when,  with  no  little  awe  and  agita 
tion,  I  came  into  the  presence  of  madame.  She  was  sitting, 
and  filled  a  great  chair,  from  which  she  seldom  moved.  Her 
aspect  was  composed,  and  her  manner  such  as  was  at  first 
more  calculated  to  inspire  respect  than  conciliate  affection. 
Not  having  the  smallest  solicitude  about  what  people  thought 
of  her,  and  having  her  mind  generally  occupied  with  mat 
ters  of  weighty  concern,  the  first  expression  of  her  kindness 
seemed  rather  a  lofty  courtesy  than  attractive  affability ;  but 
she  shone  out  by  degrees,  and  she  was  sure  eventually  to 
please  every  one  worth  pleasing,  her  conversation  was  so  rich, 
so  various,  so  informing ;  every  thing  she  said  bore  such  a 
stamp  of  reality  ;  her  character  had  such  a  grasp  in  it. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  dreams  began  to  be  talked  of ; 
and  every  one,  in  turn,  gave  their  opinion  with  regard  to  that 
wonderful  mode  in  which  the  mind  acts  independent  of  the 
senses,  asserting  its  immaterial  nature  in  a  manner  the  most 
conclusive.  I  mused  and  listened,  till  at  length  the  spirit  of 
quotation  (which  very  early  began  to  haunt  me)  moved  me  to 
repeat  from  "  Paradise  Lost,"  — 

"  When  Nature  rests, 
Oft  in  her  absence  mimic  Fancy  wakes 
To  imitate  her ;  but,  misjoining  shapes, 
Wild  work  produces  oft." 

I  sat  silent  when  my  bolt  was  shot,  but  so  did  not  madame. 
Astonished  to  hear  her  favorite  author  quoted  readily  by  so 
mere  a  child,  she  attached  much  more  importance  to  the  cir 
cumstance  than  it  deserved  ;  so  much,  indeed,  that,  long  after, 
she  used  to  repeat  it  to  strangers  in  my  presence,  by  way  of 
accounting  for  the  great  fancy  she  had  taken  to  me.  These 
partial  repetitions  of  hers  fixed  this  lucky  quotation  indelibly 
in  my  mind.  Any  person  who  has  ever  been  in  love,  and  has 


NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

unexpectedly  heard  that  sweetest  of  all  music,  the  praise  of 
his  beloved,  may  judge  of  my  sensations  when  madame  began 
to  talk  with  enthusiasm  of  Milton.  The  bard  of  Paradise 
was  indeed  "  the  dweller  of  my  secret  soul ;  "  and  it  never 
was  my  fortune  before  to  meet  with  any  one  who  understood 
or  relished  him.  I  knew  very  well  that  the  Divine  Spirit  was 
his  Urania.  But  I  took  his  invocation  quite  literally,  and  had 
not  the  smallest  doubt  of  his  being  as  much  inspired  as  ever 
Isaiah  was.  This  was  a  very  hopeful  opening;  yet  I  was 
much  too  simple  and  too  humble  to  expect  that  I  should 
excite  the  attention  of  madame.  My  ambition  aimed  at  noth 
ing  higher  than  winning  the  heart  of  the  sweet  Catalina  [a 
grand-niece  of  Madame  Schuyler] ;  and  I  thought,  if  Heaven 
had  given  me  such  another  little  sister,  and  enabled  me  to 
teach  her,  in  due  time,  to  relish  Milton,  I  should  have  nothing 
left  to  ask. 

MADAME  RIEDESEL  AND  GENERAL  SCHUYLER. 

[Mrs.  Grant's  Memoirs,  which  disclose  so  much  of  the 
domestic  life  of  the  Americans  prior  to  the  war,  do  not  extend 
into  the  war  itself;  but  the  names  which  she  mentions  are 
names  which  belong  to  American  history.  A  glimpse  of  the 
Schuyler  family,  especially  of  Gen.  Philip  Schuyler,  a  nephew 
of  the  "American  Lady,"  is  offered  in  Madame  Riedesel's. 
journal  of  the  events  connected  with  Burgoyne's  expedition, 
and  the  defeat  and  capitulation  of  his  army  with  the  German 
contingent  at  Saratoga.  Madame  Riedesel  with  her  children, 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  battle,  were  sheltered  in  the  cellar 
of  a  house  near  by,  where  they  remained  until  the  capitulation 
was  consummated,  when,  with  her  children,  she  returned  to 
the  camp.] 

I  again  [she  writes]  seated  myself  in  my  dear  calash ;  and, 
in  the  passage  through  the  American  camp,  I  observed  with 
great  satisfaction  that  no  one  cast  at  us  scornful  glances  :  on 
the  contrary,  they  all  greeted  me,  even  showing  compassion 
on  their  countenances  at  seeing  a  mother  with  her  little 
children  in  such  a  situation.  I  confess  that  I  feared  to  come 


MADAME  RIEDESEL  AND   GEN.   SCHUYLER.   1/3 

into  the  enemy's  camp,  as  the  thing  was  so  entirely  new  to  me. 
When  I  approached  the  tents,  a  noble-looking  man  came 
toward  me,  took  the  children  out  of  the  wagon,  embraced  and 
kissed  them,  and  then,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  helped  me  also 
to  alight.  "You  tremble,"  said  he  to  me,  "fear  nothing."  — 
"  No,"  replied  I  ;  "  for  you  are  so  kind,  and  have  been  so 
tender  toward  my  children,  that  it  has  inspired  me  with 
courage."  He  then  led  me  to  the  tent  of  Gen.  Gates,  with 
whom  I  found  Gens.  Burgoyne  and  Phillips,  who  were  upon 
an  extremely  friendly  footing  with  him.  Burgoyne  said  to 
me,  "  You  may  now  dismiss  all  your  apprehensions  ;  for  your 
sufferings  are  at  an  end."  I  answered  him,  that  I  should 
certainly  be  acting  very  wrongly  to  have  any  more  anxiety, 
when  our  chief  had  none,  and  especially  when  I  saw  him  on 
such  a  friendly  footing  with  Gen.  Gates.  All  the  generals 
remained  to  dine  with  Gen.  Gates.  The  man  who  had  re 
ceived  me  so  kindly  came  up,  and  said  to  me,  "It  may  be 
embarrassing  to  you  to  dine  with  all  these  gentlemen.  Come 
now  with  your  children  into  my  tent,  where  I  will  give  you,  it 
is  true,  a  frugal  meal,  but  one  that  will  be  accompanied  by 
the  best  of  wishes."  —  "You  are  certainly,"  answered  I,  "a 
husband  and  a  father,  since  you  show  me  so  much  kindness." 
I  then  learned  that  he  was  the  American  general,  Schuyler. 
He  entertained  me  with  excellent  smoked  tongue,  beefsteaks, 
potatoes,  good  butter,  and  bread.  Never  have  I  eaten  a  better 
meal.  I  was  content.  I  saw  that  all  around  me  were  so  like 
wise  ;  but  that  which  rejoiced  me  more  than  every  thing  else 
was,  that  my  husband  was  out  of  all  danger.  As  soon  as  we 
had  finished  dinner,  he  invited  me  to  take  up  my  residence  at 
his  house,  which  was  situated  in  Albany,  and  told  me  that 
Gen.  Burgoyne  would  also  be  there.  I  sent,  and  asked  my 
husband  what  I  should  do.  He  sent  me  word  to  accept  the 
invitation;  and  as  it  was  two  days'  journey  from  where  we 
were,  and  already  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  he  advised  me 
to  set  out  in  advance,  and  to  stay  over  night  at  a  place  distant 
about  three  hours'  ride.  Gen.  Schuyler  was  so  obliging  as 
to  send  with  me  a  French  officer,  who  was  a  very  agreeable 


174  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

man,  and  commanded  those  troops  who  composed  the  recon 
noitring  party  of  which  I  have  before  made  mention.  As 
soon  as  he  had  escorted  me  to  the  house  where  we  were  to 
remain,  he  went  back.  I  found  in  this  house  a  French  physi 
cian,  and  a  mortally  wounded  Brunswick  officer,  who  was 
under  his  care,  and  who  died  a  few  days  afterward.  The 
wounded  man  extolled  highly  the  good  nursing  of  the  doctor, 
who  may  have  been  a  very  skilful  surgeon,  but  was  a  young 
coxcomb.  He  rejoiced  greatly  when  he  heard  that  I  could 
speak  his  language,  and  began  to  entertain  me  with  all  kinds 
of  sweet  speeches  and  impertinences;  among  other  things, 
that  he  could  not  believe  it  possible  that  I  was  a  general's 
wife,  because  a  woman  of  such  rank  would  not  certainly  follow 
her  husband  into  the  camp.  I  ought,  therefore,  to  stay  with 
him ;  for  it  was  better  to  be  with  the  conquerors  than  the  con 
quered.  I  was  beside  myself  with  his  insolence,  but  dared 
not  let  him  see  the  contempt  with  which  he  inspired  me, 
because  I  had  no  protector.  When  night  came  on,  he  offered 
to  share  his  room  with  me ;  but  I  answered  that  I  should 
remain  in  the  apartment  of  the  wounded  officer,  whereupon 
he  distressed  me  still  more  with  all  kinds  of  foolish  flatteries, 
until  suddenly  the  door  opened,  and  my  husband  and  his 
adjutant  entered.  "  Here,  sir,  is  my  husband,"  said  I  to  him, 
with  a  glance  meant  to  annihilate  him.  Upon  this  he  with 
drew,  looking  very  sheepish.  Yet  afterward  he  was  so  polite 
as  to  give  up  his  room  to  us.  The  day  after  this  we  arrived 
at  Albany,  where  we  had  so  often  longed  to  be.  But  we  came 
not,  as  we  supposed  we  should,  as  victors.  We  were,  never 
theless,  received  in  the  most  friendly  manner  by  the  good 
Gen.  Schuyler,  and  by  his  wife  and  daughters,  who  showed 
us  the  most  marked  courtesy,  as,  also,  Gen.  Burgoyne,  although 
he  had  —  without  any  necessity,  it  was  said  —  caused  their 
magnificently  built  houses  to  be  burned.  But  they  treated  us 
as  people  who  knew  how  to  forget  their  own  losses  in  the 
misfortunes  of  others.  Even  Gen.  Burgoyne  was  deeply 
moved  at  their  magnanimity,  and  said  to  Gen.  Schuyler,  "  Is 
it  to  me,  who  have  done  you  so  much  injury,  that  you  show  so 


MADAME  RIEDESEL  AND   GEN.  SCHUYLER.   1 7$ 

much  kindness  ?  "  —  "  That  is  the  fate  of  war,"  replied  the 
brave  man :  "  let  us  say  no  more  about  it."  We  remained 
three  days  with  them,  and  they  acted  as  if  they  were  very 
reluctant  to  let  us  go.  Our  cook  had  remained  in  the  city 
with  the  camp  equipage  of  my  husband ;  but,  the  second  night 
after  our  arrival,  the  whole  of  it  was  stolen  from  us,  notwith 
standing  an  American  guard  of  ten  or  twenty  men  had  been 
deputed  for  its  protection.  Nothing  remained  to  us,  except 
the  beds  of  myself  and  children,  and  a  few  trifles  that  I  had 
kept  by  me  for  my  own  use  ;  and  this,  too,  in  a  land  where 
one  could  get  nothing  for  money,  and  at  a  time  when  we  were 
in  want  of  many  things  :  consequently,  my  husband  was 
obliged  to  board  his  adjutant,  quartermaster,  &c.,  and  rind 
them  in  every  thing.  The  English  officers  —  our  friends,  as  I 
am  justified  in  calling  them ;  for,  during  the  whole  of  my 
sojourn  in  America,  they  always  acted  as  such  —  each  one 
gave  us  something.  One  gave  a  pair  of  spoons  ;  another, 
some  plates  ;  all  of  which  we  were  obliged  to  use  for  a  long 
time,  as  it  was  not  until  three  years  afterward,  in  New  York, 
that  we  found  an  opportunity,  although  at  great  cost,  to  replace 
a  few  of  the  things  we  had  lost  Fortunately,  I  had  kept  by 
me  my  little  carriage  which  carried  my  baggage.  As  it  was 
already  very  late  in  the  season,  and  the  weather  raw,  I  had 
my  calash  covered  with  coarse  linen,  which,  in  turn,  was  var 
nished  over  with  oil ;  and  in  this  manner  we  set  out  on  our 
journey  to  Boston,  which  was  very  tedious,  besides  being 
attended  with  considerable  hardship. 

I  know  not  whether  it  was  my  carriage  that  attracted  the 
curiosity  of  the  people  to  it  (for  it  certainly  had  the  appear 
ance  of  a  wagon  in  which  they  carry  around  rare  animals) ; 
but  often  I  was  obliged  to  halt  because  the  people  insisted 
upon  seeing  the  wife  of  the  German  general  with  her  children. 
For  fear  that  they  would  tear  off  the  linen  covering  from  the 
wagon,  in  their  eagerness  to  see  me,  I  very  often  alighted, 
and  by  this  means  got  away  more  quickly.  However,  I  must 
say  that  the  people  were  very  friendly,  and  were  particularly 
delighted  at  my  being  able  to  speak  English,  which  was  the 
language  of  their  country. 


1/6  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

In  the  midst  of  all  my  trials,  however,  God  so  supported 
me,  that  I  lost  neither  my  frolicsomeness  nor  my  spirits  ;  but 
my  poor  husband,  who  was  gnawed  by  grief  on  account  of  all 
that  had  happened,  and  on  account,  also,  of  his  captivity, 
became,  by  these  constant  stoppages,  peevish  in  the  highest 
degree,  and  could  scarcely  endure  them.  His  health  had 
suffered  very  greatly,  especially  by  the  many  damp  nights  that 
he  had  spent  in  the  open  air  ;  and  he  was,  therefore,  often 
obliged  to  take  medicine.  One  day,  when  he  was  very  sick 
from  the  effects  of  an  emetic,  he  could  not  sleep  on  account 
of  the  noise  that  our  American  guard  made,  who  never  left 
us,  but  were  continually  drinking  and  carousing  before  our 
very  door  ;  and  when  he  sent  them  a  message,  begging  them 
to  keep  quiet,  they  redoubled  their  noise.  I  resolved  to  go 
out  myself ;  and  I  said  to  them  that  my  husband  was  sick, 
and  begged  that  they  would  be  less  noisy.  They  at  once 
desisted  from  their  merriment,  and  all  became  still,  —  a  proof 
that  this  nation,  also,  have  respect  for  our  sex. 

THE  TEMPER  OF  THE  COLONISTS. 

[Madame  Riedesel's  Journal  recounts  her  experience  in  the 
journey  which  she  took  with  her  husband  and  the  German 
troops,  when  they  left  Cambridge  under  orders  to  go  to  Vir 
ginia.  The  name  of  Hessian  had  struck  terror  in  the  hearts 
of  the  country-people  ;  and  the  gentleness  and  sweetness  of 
this  refined  lady  seemed  almost  unequal  to  the  task  of  secur 
ing  for  herself  and  family  common  respect.  But  the  incidents 
of  the  journey  serve  to  indicate  the  temper  of  the  colonists, 
especially  on  the  border  of  New  England  and  New  York.] 

One  day  we  came  to  a  pretty  little  place  ;  but,  our  supply- 
wagon  not  having  been  able  to  follow  us,  we  could  not  endure 
our  hunger  longer.  Observing  a  quantity  of  butcher's  meat 
in  the  house  in  which  we  put  up,  I  begged  the  hostess  to  let 
me  have  some.  "I  have,"  answered  she,  "several  different 
kinds.  There  is  beef,  veal,  and  mutton."  My  mouth  already 
watered  at  the  prospect.  "  Let  me  have  some,"  I  saicl :  "  I 
will  pay  you  well  for  it."  Snapping  her  fingers  almost  under 


THE   TEMPER  OF  THE   COLONISTS. 

my  very  nose,  she  replied,  "  You  shall  not  have  a  morsel  of  it. 
Why  have  you  come  out  of  your  land  to  kill  us,  and  waste  our 
goods  and  possessions  ?  Now  you  are  our  prisoners.  It  is, 
therefore,  our  turn  to  torment  you."  —  "See,"  rejoined  I, 
"  these  poor  children.  They  are  almost  dead  with  hunger." 
She  remained  inflexible.  But  when,  finally,  my  three-and-a- 
half-year-old  little  daughter,  Caroline,  came  up  to  her,  seized 
her  by  the  hand,  and  said  to  her  in  English,  "Good  woman, 
I  am  very  hungry,"  she  could  not  longer  withstand  her.  She 
took  her  in  a  room,  and  gave  her  an  egg.  "  No,"  said  the 
good  little  child,  "  I  have  still  two  sisters."  At  this  the 
woman  was  touched,  and  gave  her  three  eggs,  saying,  "  I  am 
just  as  angry  as  ever  ;  but  I  cannot  withstand  the  child."  She 
then  became  more  gentle,  and  offered  me  bread  and  milk.  I 
made  tea  for  ourselves.  The  woman  eyed  us  longingly,  for 
the  Americans  love  it  very  much ;  but  they  had  resolved  to 
drink  it  no  longer,  as  the  famous  duty  on  the  tea  had  occa 
sioned  the  war.  I  offered  her  a  cup,  and  poured  out  for  her  a 
saucer  of  tea.  This  mollified  her  completely,  and  she  begged 
me  to  follow  her  into  the  kitchen,  where  I  found  the  husband 
gnawing  at  a  pig's  tail ;  while  his  wife,  to  my  great  satisfaction, 
brought  out  of  the  cellar  a  basket  of  potatoes.  When  she 
came  back,  he  reached  out  to  her  his  tidbit.  She  ate  some  of 
it,  and  gave  it  back  to  him  in  a  little  while,  when  he  again 
began  to  feast  upon  it.  I  saw  this  singular  mutual  entertain 
ment  with  amazement  and  disgust ;  but  he  believed  that  hun 
ger  made  me  begrudge  it  him,  and  he  reached  out  to  me  the 
already  thoroughly-gnawed  tail.  What  should  I  do,  —  throw 
it  away,  and  not  only  injure  his  feelings,  but  lose  my  loved 
basket  of  potatoes  ?  I  accordingly  took  it,  pretended  to  eat 
it,  and  quietly  threw  it  into  the  fire.  We  had  now  made  our 
entire  peace  with  them.  They  gave  me  my  potatoes  ;  and  I 
made  a  good  supper  off  them,  with  excellent  butter.  But, 
besides  this,  they  moved  us  into  three  pretty  rooms  with  good 
beds. 

The  next  morning  we  again  set  out  on  our  journey,  and  still, 
on  every  hand,  drew  upon  us  the  curiosity  of  the  inhabitants. 


YORK  AATD    THE  JERSEYS. 

Upon  reaching  the  bank  of  the  Hudson  River,1  we  were  quar 
tered  at  the  house  of  a  boatman,  where  we  were  given,  as  a 
special  mark  of  favor,  a  half-finished  room  without  windows. 
We  hung  our  bedclothes  before  them,  and  slept  upon  some 
straw,  as  our  baggage-wagon  was  broken,  and  we  had,  there 
fore,  no  beds.  In  consequence  of  this  accident,  also,  we  had, 
unfortunately,  neither  coffee  nor  tea  nor  sugar,  which  had 
often,  upon  this  journey,  constituted  our  only  refreshment. 
Our  landlady,  a  perfect  fury,  finally  allowed  us  on  the  follow 
ing  morning,  when  our  things  had  arrived,  to  breakfast  in  her 
room,  as  it  was  in  the  month  of  December,  and  we  could  not 
make  a  fire  in  our  room.  But  we  were  unable  to  induce  her 
to  let  us  have  a  table  to  ourselves  ;  and  we  were  not  once 
permitted  to  sit  down  to  hers,  until  she,  with  her  children  and 
servants,  had  finished  breakfast,  which  consisted  of  what  had 
been  left  over  from  the  evening  meal ;  viz.,  cabbage,  ham,  and 
the  like,  with  coffee  and  coarse  sugar.  They  left  us  a  filthy 
table,  which  we  were  first  obliged  to  clean  before  we  could  use 
it ;  and  yet  they  insisted  that  we  should  put  every  thing  in 
order,  and  replace  the  cups  and  saucers  in  a  perfectly  clean 
condition.  At  the  least  remonstrance,  they  pointed  us  to  the 
door.  She  did  all  this  to  torment  us  ;  for  she  was  an  anti- 
royalist.  Unfortunately,  a  storm,  with  adverse  winds,  came 
up ;  so  that  we,  as  the  boatman  assured  us,  could  not  cross 
the  river  without  danger.  The  wicked  woman  insisted,  not- 

1  Mrs.  Riedesel  and  the  troops  struck  the  Hudson  at  Fishkill.  When  they 
arrived  at  that  place,  Washington,  on  horseback,  attended  by  his  staff,  saw  them 
march  by.  A  journal  of  a  Brunswick  officer,  speaking  of  the  American  command- 
er-in-chief  on  this  occasion,  naivelv  says,  "  He  reviewed  all  our  divisions,  and  was 
very  polite  to  our  officers.  All  that,  in  general,  can  be  said  on  the  subject  of  the 
said  general  amounts  to  this,  that  it  is  a  pity  a  man  of  his  character  and  talents  is 
a  rebel  to  his  king." 

Mrs.  Riedesel  and  the  first  division  of  the  troops  reached  Lancaster  in  the  latter 
part  of  December.  The  credulous  inhabitants  of  that  town  had  been  hoaxed  with 
the  story  that  the  King  of  England  had  made  a  present  of  the  worthy  town  of  Lan 
caster  to  Gen.  Riedesel,  to  reward  him  for  his  services,  and  that  the  latter  had  now 
come  to  take  possession  of  the  place  with  his  troops.  The  irritation  of  the  people, 
accordingly,  was  so  roused  against  the  German  general,  that  serious  consequences 
were  at  first  feared ;  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  they  could  be  convinced  of  the 
falsity  of  the  report.  —  W.L.  Stone. 


THE   TEMPER   OF  THE  COLONISTS.          1 79 

withstanding,  that  we  should  go  ;  and  it  was  only  after  many 
entreaties,  that  we  obtained  permission  to  remain  two  days 
longer.  On  the  third  day,  the  husband,  with  a  perplexed  air, 
came  and  announced  to  us  that  we  must  go.  I  entreated  him 
to  think  of  our  danger,  and  at  least  to  accompany  us,  as  I 
should  then  have  more  courage  to  attempt  the  passage  over. 
He  promised  to  take  us  over  himself  ;  and  we  embarked  upon 
a  little  boat  with  one  sail ;  but,  as  he  shoved  it  from  the  land, 
our  man  sprang  up,  and  out  of  the  boat,  and  left  us  only  one 
sailor,  who  did  not  understand  very  well  how  to  guide  the 
tiller.  We  were,  therefore,  on  account  of  his  unskilfulness, 
and  the  contrary  winds,  driven  hither  and  thither  in  the  river 
for  more  than  five  hours,  until,  at  last,  after  a  thousand  anxie 
ties,  we  landed  upon  the  opposite  shore.  Even  then  we  were 
still  obliged  to  wade  up  to  the  knees  through  a  morass,  till  we 
came  to  the  house  of  Col.  Horborn,1  a  very  rich  man,  where 
we  were  to  lodge.2 

1  Probably  Osborn. 

2  Mrs.  Riedesel  does  not  exaggerate  the  peril  of  her  passage  across  the  Hudson 
in  this  storm  ;  and  knowing  men  at  the  time  were  surprised  that  she  escaped  with 
out  accident.    Indeed,  the  treatment  she  received  from  the  inhabitants  of  the  towns 
through  which  she  passed  on  this  journey  was  such  as  to  excite  the  indignation 
of  Col.  Troup,  who  had  been  detailed  to  accompany  the  party  to  its  destination. 
In  a  letter  to  Gen.  Gates,  dated  at  Sussex  Court  House,  Jan.  3,  1779,  Col.  Troup 
writes,  "  You  cannot  imagine  what  difficulties  we  had  to  overcome  on  our  march 
hither.    The  people  of  almost  every  house  where  we  stopped  seemed  to  delight  in 
rendering  our  stay  with  them  as  unpleasant  as  they  possibly  could.     I  am  sorry  to 
add,  that  they  behaved  very  improperly  to  Lady  Riedesel.    They  could  not  dismiss 
from  their  minds  the  cruelty  with  which  our  prisoners  have  been  treated.     Part  of 
them  were  afraid  of  being  plundered ;  others,  of  being  murdered  by  us.     A  young 
woman,  who  had  been  married  only  shortly  before,  wept  continually,  crying  and 
gnashing  her  teeth  for  almost  two  hours  running,  merely  because  I  asked  her  to 
let  Lady  Riedesel  sleep  in  her  chamber,  where  she  kept  some  gowns,  petticoats, 
pots,  and  the  like.     The  rudeness  with  which  they  treated  us,  of  every  degree  and 
kind,  was  carried  to  such  a  point,  that,  since  my  departure  from  Cambridge,  I  have 
always  stood  in  the  greatest  fear.     Lady  Riedesel,  the  general,  and  his  family,  have 
testified  to  me,  in  every  way,  their  esteem  and  kindness.    A  few  minutes  ago  they 
and  the  children,  before  setting  out  for  Easton,  were  in  the  best  state  of  health." 
And  in  another  letter  to  Gates,  shortly  after,  he  writes,  "  The  army  has  made  a 
stand  at  Middlebrook ;  and  the  officer  who  was  despatched  by  Lord  Sterling  to 
attend  Lady  Riedesel  to  Virginia  assures  me  that  they  are  well  satisfied  with  their 
lodgings.     In  spite  of  his  assurances,  however,  I  cannot  disengage  myself  from  my 
private  opinion,  which,   I  am  persuaded,  does  not  much  differ  from  yours."  — 
W.L.  Stone. 


ISO  NEW  YORK  AND   THE  JERSEYS. 

In  that  place  I  had  a  small  room,  it  is  true,  but  a  good  one, 
for  myself,  husband,  children,  and  both  my  maids  ;  in  which, 
however,  the  adjutants  had  to  take  breakfast,  dinner,  and  tea. 
As  I  wished  to  change  my  stockings,  on  account  cf  my  feet 
being  completely  soaked,  I  begged  our  officers  to  go  out  long 
enough  for  me  to  do  this.  In  the  mean  time,  they  went  into 
the  kitchen  to  warm  themselves  ;  and,  while  there,  suddenly 
the  host  came  in,  took  them  by  the  arms,  exclaiming  at  the 
same  time,  "  Here,  you  nasty  Royalists  !  is  it  not  enough  that 
I  harbor  you  ?  Can  you  not  sometimes  leave  me  in  peace  ?  " 
He  had  just  come  in  from  the  field,  and  in  his  coarse  cloth 
garments,  his  long  beard,  and  his  dirty  linen,  looked  so  like  a 
bear,  that  we  trembled  before  him.  His  wife,  however,  was 
kind.  On  the  following  day,  which  was  Sunday,  she  begged 
me  to  drink  coffee  with  her  after  dinner.  Scarcely  had  I 
seated  myself,  when  the  husband  entered,  looking  much  more 
respectable,  as  he  had  shaved  himself,  and  put  on  his  Sunday 
linen.  As  I  could  not  yet  forget  the  scene  of  the  day  before, 
I  got  up,  and  wished  to  leave  the  room.  But  he  shut  the  door, 
and  asked  me,  "  Are  you  afraid  of  me  ?  "  —  "  No,"  answered 
I,  "  I  am  afraid  of  no  one,  not  even  the  Devil,  whom  you  so 
resembled  yesterday."  —  "But  to-day,"  replied  he,  "I  look 
much  better."  —  "Yes,"  said  I :  "nevertheless,  I  desire  to  get 
out  of  the  way  of  further  discourtesies."  My  demeanor, 
instead  of  vexing,  pleased  him.  He  took  me  by  the  hand, 
and  urged  me  to  sit  down  again  in  my  chair.  "  I  am  not  so 
bad  as  you  think,"  said  he.  "  You  please  me ;  and,  if  I  had 
no  wife,  I  would  marry  you." — "But,"  rejoined  I,  "how  do 
you  know  that  I  would  have  you  ?  "  —  "  That,"  said  he,  "  we 
should  soon  see.  I  am  very  rich.  The  whole  landscape,  as 
far  as  you  can  see,  is  mine  :  my  wife  is  already  old.  I  think, 
therefore,  you  had  better  remain  here."  From  this  moment  I 
could  have  had  every  thing  that  the  house  afforded ;  for  the 
good  wife  was  delighted  to  share  with  me  all  that  she  herself 
was  accustomed  to  have. 


AN  ENGLISH  GIRL  AND   GEN.   PUTNAM.     l8l 


AN  ENGLISH  GIRL  AND  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

[By  one  of  the  fortunes  of  war,  which  divided  so  many 
households,  it  happened  that  a  daughter  of  Major  Moncrieffe 
was  amongst  patriots  in  New  Jersey,  while  her  father,  who 
had  been  with  Gen.  Gage  in  Boston,  was  now  with  Gen. 
Howe  at  Staten  Island.  Miss  Moncrieffe,  whose  Memoirs  as 
Mrs.  Coghlan  have  an  air  of  candor  singularly  alternating 
with  the  smirking  manner  of  a  public  penitent,  gives  an 
account  of  her  passage  through  the  American  lines  to  Gen. 
Howe's  camp,  which  contains  some  curious  sketches  of  Gen. 
Putnam]. 

I  applied  for  protection  to  Mr.  William  Livingston,  my 
first  stepmother's  brother,  who  was  the  governor  of  New 
Jersey.  He  behaved  to  me  with  harshness,  and  even  added 
insult  to  his  reproaches.  Thus  destitute  of  friends,  I  wrote 
to  Gen.  Putnam,  who  instantly  answered  my  letter  by  a  very 
kind  invitation  to  his  house,  assuring  me  that  he  respected 
my  father,  and  was  only  his  enemy  in  the  field  of  battle  ;  but 
that  in  private  life  he  himself,  or  any  part  of  his  family, 
might  always  command  his  services.  On  the  next  day  he 
sent  Col.  Webb,  one  of  his  aides-de-camp,  to  conduct  me  to 
New  York.  When  I  arrived  in  Broadway  (a  street  so  called), 
where  Gen.  Putnam  resided,  I  was  received  with  the  greatest 
tenderness,  both  by  Mrs.  Putnam  and  her  daughters  ;  and  on 
the  following  day  I  was  introduced  by  them  to  Gen.  and 
Mrs.  Washington,  who  likewise  made  it  their  study  to  show 
me  every  mark  of  regard.  But  I  seldom  was  allowed  to  be 
alone,  although  sometimes,  indeed,  I  found  an  opportunity  to 
escape  to  the  gallery  on  the  top  of  the  house,1  where  my 
chief  delight  was  to  view  with  a  telescope  our  fleet  and  army 
at  Staten  Island.  My  amusements  were  few.  The  good  Mrs. 
Putnam  employed  me  and  her  daughters  constantly  to  spin 
flax  for  shirts  for  the  American  soldiery,  indolence  in  America 


1  Almost  every  gentleman's  house  in  New  York  has  a  gallery,  with  a  summer- 
house  on  the  top. —  Mrs.  Ccghlan. 


1 82  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

being  totally  discouraged ;  and  I  likewise  worked  some  for 
Gen.  Putnam,  who,  though  not  an  accomplished  Muscadin, 
like  our  Dilettanti  of  St.  James  Street,  was  certainly  one  of 
the  best  characters  in  the  world,  his  heart  being  composed 
of  those  noble  materials  which  equally  command  respect  and 
admiration.  One  day  after  dinner  the  Congress  was  the 
toast :  Gen.  Washington  viewed  me  very  attentively,  and  sar 
castically  said,  "Miss  Moncrieffe,  you  don't  drink  your  wine." 
Embarrassed  by  this  reproof,  I  knew  not  how  to  act :  at  last, 
as  if  by  a  secret  impulse,  I  addressed  myself  to  the  Ameri 
can  commander,  and,  taking  the  wine,  I  said,  "  Gen.  Howe  is 
the  toast."  Vexed  at  my  temerity,  the  whole  company,  espe 
cially  Gen.  Washington,  censured  me ;  when  my  good  friend 
Gen.  Putnam,  as  usual,  apologized,  and  assured  them  I  did 
not  mean  to  offend.  "  Besides,"  replied  he,  "  every  thing  said 
or  done  by  such  a  child  ought  rather  to  amuse  than  affront 
you."  Gen.  Washington,  piqued  at  this  observation,  then 
said,  "  Well,  miss,  I  will  overlook  your  indiscretion,  on  con 
dition  that  you  drink  my  health,  or  Gen.  Putnam's,  the  first 
time  you  dine  at  Sir  William  Howe's  table,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  water." 

These  words  conveyed  to  me  a  flattering  hope  that  I  should 
once  more  see  my  father ;  and  I  promised  Gen.  Washington 
to  do  any  thing  which  he  required,  provided  he  would  permit 
me  to  return  to  him. 

Not  long  after  this  circumstance,  a  flag  of  truce  arrived 
from  Staten  Island,  with  letters  from  Major  Moncrieffe,  de 
manding  me,  for  he  now  considered  me  as  a  prisoner.  Gen. 
Washington  would  not  acquiesce  in  this  demand,  saying 
"  that  I  should  remain  a  hostage  for  my  father's  good  behav 
ior."  I  must  here  observe,  that,  when  Gen.  Washington 
refused  to  deliver  me  up,  the  noble-minded  Putnam,  as  if  it 
were  by  instinct,  laid  his  hand  on  his  sword,  and  with  a  vio 
lent  oath  swore  "  that  my  father's  request  should  be  granted." 
The  commander-in-chief,  whose  influence  governed  the  Con 
gress,  soon  prevailed  on  them  to  consider  me  as  a  person 
whose  situation  required  their  strict  attention ;  and,  that  I 


AN  ENGLISH  GIRL  AND   GEN.   PUTNAM.     183 

might  not  escape,  they  ordered  me  to  King's  Bridge,  where, 
in  justice,  I  must  say  that  I  was  treated  with  the  utmost  ten 
derness.1  Gen.  Mifflin  there  commanded  :  his  lady  was  a  most 
accomplished,  beautiful  woman,  a  Quaker ;  and  here  my  heart 
received  its  first  impression.  .  .  .  To  him2  I  plighted  my  virgin 
vow ;  and  I  shall  never  cease  to  lament  that  obedience  to  a 
father  left  it  incomplete. 

My  conqueror  was  engaged  in  another  cause ;  he  was  ambi 
tious  to  obtain  other  laurels :  he  fought  to  liberate,  not  to 
enslave,  nations.  He  was  a  colonel  in  the  American  army, 
and  high  in  the  estimation  of  his  country.  His  victories  were 
never  accompanied  with  one  gloomy,  relenting  thought :  they 
shone  as  bright  as  the  cause  which  achieved  them.  I  had 
communicated  by  letter,  to  Gen.  Putnam,  the  proposals  of 
this  gentleman,  with  my  determination  to  accept  them ;  and  I 
was  embarrassed  by  the  answer  which  the  general  returned. 
He  entreated  me  to  remember  that  the  person  in  question, 
from  his  political  principles,  was  extremely  obnoxious  to  my 
father,  and  concluded  by  observing,  "that  I  surely  would 
not  unite  myself  with  a  man,  who,  in  his  zeal  for  the  cause  of 
his  country,  would  not  hesitate  to  drench  his  sword  in  the 
blood  of  my  nearest  relation,  should  he  be  opposed  to  him  in 
battle."  Saying  this,  he  lamented  the  necessity  of  giving 
advice  contrary  to  his  own  sentiments,  since,  in  every  other 
respect,  he  considered  the  match  as  unexceptionable.  Never 
theless,  Gen.  Putnam,  after  this  discovery,  appeared,  in  all  his 
visits  to  King's  Bridge,  extremely  reserved.  His  eyes  were 
constantly  fixed  on  me ;  nor  did  he  ever  cease  to  make  me  the 
object  of  his  concern  to  Congress ;  and,  after  various  appli 
cations,  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  leave  for  my  departure; 
when,  in  order  that  I  should  go  to  Staten  Island  with  the 
respect  due  to  my  sex  and  family,  the  barge  belonging  to  the 
Continental  Congress  was  ordered  with  twelve  oars ;  and  a 

1  My  father's  knowledge  of  the  country  induced  Gen.  Washington  to  use  every 
expedient  in  order  to  seduce  him  from  the  royal  cause ;  and  he  knew  there  was 
none  more  likely  to  succeed  than  that  of  attacking  his  parental  feelings. 

3  His  name  is  never  mentioned  by  Mrs.  Cpghlan. 


1 84  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

general  officer,  together  with  his  suite,  was  despatched  to  see 
me  safe  across  the  bay  of  New  York.  The  day  was  so  very 
tempestuous,  that  I  was  half  drowned  with  the  waves  dashing 
against  me.  When  we  came  within  hail  of  the  "  Eagle,"  man- 
of-war,  which  was  Lord  Howe's  ship,  a  flag  of  truce  was  sent 
to  meet  us  :  the  officer  despatched  on  this  occasion  was  Lieut. 
Brown.  Gen.  Knox  told  him  that  he  had  received  orders  to 
see  me  safe  to  headquarters.  Lieut.  Brown  replied,  "It  was 
impossible,  as  no  person  from  the  enemy  could  approach 
nearer  the  English  fleet; "  but  added,  "  that,  if  I  would  place 
myself  under  his  protection,  he  certainly  would  attend  me 
thither."  I  then  entered  the  barge,  and,  bidding  an  eternal  fare 
well  to  my  dear  American  friends,  turned  my  back  on  liberty. 
We  first  rowed  alongside  the  "  Eagle ; "  and  Mr.  Brown 
afterwards  conveyed  me  to  headquarters.  When  my  name 
was  announced,  the  British  commander-in-chief  sent  Col. 
Sheriff  (lately  made  a  general,  and  who,  during  my  father's 
lifetime,  was  one  of  his  most  particular  friends,  although, 
alas  !  the  endearing  sentiment  of  friendship  now  seems  ex 
tinct  in  his  breast,  as  far  as  the  unhappy  daughter  is  con 
cerned)  with  an  invitation  from  Sir  William  Howe  to  dinner, 
which  was  necessarily  accepted.  When  introduced,  I  cannot 
describe  the  emotion  I  felt ;  so  sudden  the  transition  in  a  few 
hours,  that  I  was  ready  to  sink  into  the  earth.  Judge  the  dis 
tress  of  a  girl  not  fourteen  obliged  to  encounter  the  curious, 
inquisitive  eyes  of  at  least  forty  or  fifty  people,  who  were  at 
dinner  with  the  general.  Fatigued  with  their  fastidious  com 
pliments,  I  could  only  hear  the  buzz  amongst  them,  saying, 
"  She  is  a  sweet  girl,  she  is  divinely  handsome  ;  "  although  it 
was  some  relief  to  be  placed  at  table  next  the  wife  of  Major 
Montresor,  who  had  known  me  from  my  infancy.  Owing  to 
this  circumstance,  I  recovered  a  degree  of  confidence ;  but 
being  unfortunately  asked,  agreeably  to  military  etiquette,  for 
a  toast,  I  gave  Gen.  Putnam.  Col.  Sheriff  said  in  a  low  voice, 
"You  must  not  give  him  here;"  when  Sir  William  Howe 
complacently  replied,  "  Oh,  by  all  means  !  If  he  be  the  lady's 
sweetheart,  I  can  have  no  objection  to  drink  his  health."  This 


THE  GREAT  TORPEDO.  185 

involved  me  in  a  new  dilemma :  I  wished  myself  a  thousand 
miles  distant;  and,  to  divert  the  attention  of  the  company,  I. 
gave  to  the  general  a  letter  that  I  had  been  commissioned  to 
deliver  from  Gen.  Putnam,  of  which  the  following  is  a  copy. 
(And  here  I  consider  myself  bound  to  apologize  for  the  bad 
spelling  of  my  most  excellent  republican  friend.  The  bad 
orthography  was  amply  compensated  by  the  magnanimity  of 
the  man  who  wrote  it.)  "  Ginrole  Putnam's  compliments  to 
Major  Moncrieffe,  has  made  him  a  present  of  a  fine  daughter, 
if  he  dont  lick  *  her  he  must  send  her  back  again,  and  he  will 
provide  her  with  a  fine  good  twig  husband."  The  substitu 
tion  of  twig  for  whig  husband  served  as  a  fund  of  entertain 
ment  to  the  company. 

THE   GREAT   TORPEDO. 

[It  was  at  this  time  also  that  one  of  those  experiments  in 
submarine  warfare  was  tried,  cf  which  every  war  has  so 
many  illustrations.  Thacher  in  his  Journal  gives  the  follow 
ing  account  of  it.] 

OCTOBER  [1776].  —  By  some  gentlemen  from  headquarters, 
near  New  York,  we  are  amused  with  an  account  of  a  singular 
machine,  invented  by  a  Mr.  D.  Bushnell  cf  Connecticut,  for 
the  purpose  of  destroying  the  British  shipping  by  explosion. 
This  novel  machine  was  so  ingeniously  constructed,  that,  on 
examination,  Major-Gen.  Putnam  was  decidedly  of  opinion 
that  its  operations  might  be  attended  with  the  desired  suc 
cess  :  accordingly  he  encouraged  the  inventor,  and  resolved 
to  be  himself  a  spectator  of  the  experiment  on  the  British 
shipping  in  New  York  harbor.  Mr.  Bushnell  gave  to  his 
machine  the  name  of  American  Turtle,  or  Torpedo.  It  was 
constructed  on  the  principles  of  submarine  navigation  ;  and, 
on  trial,  it  has  been  ascertained  that  it  might  be  rowed  hori 
zontally,  at  any  given  depth  under  water,  and  the  adventurer, 
concealed  within,  might  rise  or  sink  as  occasion  requires.  A 
magazine  of  powder  was  attached  to  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to 

i  Like. 


1 86  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

be  screwed  into  the  bottom  of  the  ship;  and,  being  now  dis 
engaged  from  the  machine,  the  operator  retires  in  safety,  leav 
ing  the  internal  clock-work  in  motion;  and,  at  the  distance 
of  half  an  hour  or  an  hour,  the  striking  of  a  gunlock  com 
municates  fire  to  the  powder,  and  the  explosion  takes  place. 
It  was  determined  to  make  the  experiment  with  this  machine 
in  the  night,  on  the  ship  "Eagle,"  of  sixty-four  guns,  on 
board  of  which  Admiral  Lord  Howe  commanded.  Gen.  Put 
nam  placed  himself  on  the  wharf  to  witness  the  result.  Mr. 
Bushnell  had  instructed  his  brother  in  the  management  of 
the  torpedo  with  perfect  dexterity;  but,  being  taken  sick,  a 
sergeant  of  a  Connecticut  regiment  was  selected  for  the  busi 
ness,  who,  for  want  of  time,  could  not  be  properly  instructed. 
He,  however,  succeeded  so  far  as  to  arrive  in  safety  with  his 
apparatus  under  the  bottom  of  the  ship,  when  the  screw  de 
signed  to  perforate  the  copper  sheathing,  unfortunately  struck 
against  an  iron  plate  near  the  rudder,  which,  with  the  strong 
current,  and  want  of  skill  in  the  operator,  frustrated  the  enter 
prise  ;  and,  as  daylight  had  begun  to  appear,  the  sergeant 
abandoned  his  magazine,  and  returned  in  the  torpedo  to  the 
shore.  In  less  than  half  an  hour,  a  terrible  explosion  from 
the  magazine  took  place,  and  threw  into  the  air  a  prodigious 
column  of  water,  resembling  a  great  water-spout,  attended 
with  a  report  like  thunder.  Gen.  Putnam  and  others,  who 
waited  with  great  anxiety  for  the  result,  were  exceedingly 
amused  with  the  astonishment  and  alarm  which  this  secret 
explosion  occasioned  on  board  of  the  ship.  This  failure,  it 
is  confidently  asserted,  is  not  to  be  attributed  to  any  defect 
in  the  principles  of  this  wonderful  machine,  as  it  is  allowed 
to  be  admirably  calculated  to  execute  destruction  among  the 
shipping. 

FEB.  10,  1778.  —  I  have  now  obtained  a  particular  de 
scription  of  the  American  torpedo,  and  other  ingenious  sub 
marine  machinery,  invented  by  Mr.  David  Bushnell,  for 
the  purpose  of  destroying  shipping  while  at  anchor,  some 
account  of  which  may  be  found  in  this  Journal.  The  external 
appearance  of  the  torpedo  bears  some  resemblance  to  two 


THE   GREAT  TORPEDO.  l8/ 

upper  tortoise-shells,  of  equal  size,  placed  in  contact,  leaving, 
at  that  part  which  represents  the  head  of  the  animal,  a  flue  or 
opening  sufficiently  capacious  to  contain  the  operator,  and  air 
to  support  him  thirty  minutes.  At  the  bottom,  opposite  to 
the  entrance,  is  placed  a  quantity  of  lead  for  ballast.  The 
operator  sits  upright,  and  holds  an  oar  for  rowing  forward  or 
backward,  and  is  furnished  with  a  rudder  for  steering.  An 
aperture  at  the  bottom,  with  its  valve,  admits  water  for  the 
purpose  of  descending  ;  and  two  brass  forcing-pumps  serve  to 
eject  the  water  within,  when  necessary  for  ascending.  The 
vessel  is  made  completely  water-tight,  furnished  with  glass 
windows  for  the  admission  of  light,  with  ventilators,  and  air- 
pipes  ;  and  is  so  ballasted  with  lead  fixed  at  the  bottom  as  to 
render  it  solid,  and  obviate  all  danger  of  oversetting.  Behind 
the  submarine  vessel  is  a  place  above  the  rudder  for  carrying 
a  large  powder-magazine :  this  is  made  of  two  pieces  of 
oak  timber,  large  enough,  when  hollowed  out,  to  contain  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  powder,  with  the  apparatus  used 
for  firing  it,  and  is  secured  in  its  place  by  a  screw  turned  by 
the  operator.  It  is  lighter  than  water,  that  it  may  rise  against 
the  object  to  which  it  is  intended  to  be  fastened.  Within  the 
magazine  is  an  apparatus  constructed  to  run  any  proposed 
length  of  time  under  twelve  hours :  when  it  has  run  out  its 
time,  it  unpinions  a  strong  lock,  resembling  a  gunlock,  which 
gives  fire  to  the  powder.  This  apparatus  is  so  pinioned,  that 
it  cannot  possibly  move,  till,  by  casting  off  the  magazine  from 
the  vessel,  it  is  set  in  motion.  The  skilful  operator  can  swim 
so  low  on  the  surface  of  the  water  as  to  approach  very  near 
a  ship  in  the  night,  without  fear  of  being  discovered,  and 
may,  if  he  choose,  approach  the  stern  or  stem  above  water, 
with  very  little  danger.  He  can  sink  very  quickly,  keep  at 
any  necessary  depth,  and  row  a  great  distance  in  any  direc 
tion  he  desires,  without  coming  to  the  surface.  When  he 
rises  to  the  surface,  he  can  soon  obtain  a  fresh  supply  of  air, 
and,  if  necessary,  he  may  then  descend  again,  and  pursue  his 
course.  Mr.  Bushnell  found  that  it  required  many  trials,  and 
considerable  instruction,  to  make  a  man  of  common  ingenuity 


1 88  NEW  YORK  AND   THE  JERSEYS. 

a  skilful  operator.  The  first  person,  his  brother,  whom  he 
employed,  was  very  ingenious,  and  made  himself  master  of 
the  business,  but  was  taken  sick  before  he  had  an  opportu 
nity  to  make  use  of  his  skill.  Having  procured  a  substitute, 
and  given  him  such  instruction  as  time  would  allow,  he  was 
directed  to  try  an  experiment  on  the  "  Eagle,"  a  sixty-four- 
gun  ship  on  board  of  which  Lord  Howe  commanded,  lying 
in  the  harbor  of  New  York.  He  went  under  the  ship,  and 
attempted  to  fix  the  wooden  screw  into  her  bottom,  but  struck, 
as  he  supposes,  a  bar  of  iron  which  passes  from  the  rudder 
hinge,  and  is  spiked  under  the  ship's  quarter.  Had  he  moved 
a  few  inches,  which  he  might  have  done  without  rowing,  there 
is  no  doubt  he  would  have  found  wood  where  he  might  have 
fixed  the  screw;  or,  if  the  ship  had  been  sheathed  with  copper, 
he  might  easily  have  pierced  it.  But  not  being  well  skilled 
in  the  management  of  the  vessel,  in  attempting  to  move  to 
another  place,  he  lost  the  ship.  After  seeking  her  in  vain  for 
some  time,  he  rowed  some  distance,  and  rose  to  the  surface 
of  the  water,  but  found  daylight  had  advanced  so  far,  that  he 
durst  not  renew  the  attempt.  He  says  that  he  could  easily 
have  fastened  the  magazine  under  the  stern  of  the  ship,  above 
water,  as  he  rowed  up  to  the  stern  and  touched  it,  before  he 
descended.  Had  he  fastened  it  there,  the  explosion  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  powder,  the  quantity  contained 
in  the  magazine,  must  have  been  fatal  to  the  ship.  In  his 
return  from  the  ship  to  New  York,  he  passed  near  Governor's 
IsJand,  and  thought  he  was  discovered  by  the  enemy  on  the 
island.  Being  in  haste  to  avoid  the  danger  he  feared,  he  cast 
off  the  magazine,  as  he  imagined  it  retarded  him  in  the  swell, 
which  was  very  considerable.  After  the  magazine  had  been 
cast  off  one  hour,  the  time  the  internal  apparatus  was  set  to 
run,  it  blew  up  with  great  violence,  throwing  a  vast  column  of 
water  to  an  amazing  height  in  the  air,  and  leaving  the  enemy 
to  conjecture  whether  the  stupendous  noise  was  produced  by 
a  bomb,  a  meteor,  a  water-spout,  or  an  earthquake.  Some 
other  attempts  were  made  in  Hudson  River,  in  one  of  which 
the  operator,  in  going  towards  the  ship,  lost  sight  of  her,  and 


THE   GREAT  TORPEDO.  189 

went  a  great  distance  beyond  her ;  and  the  tide  ran  so  strong 
as  to  baffle  all  his  efforts.  Mr.  Bushnell  being  in  ill  health, 
and  destitute  of  resources,  was  obliged  to  abandon  his  pur 
suit  at  that  time,  and  wait  for  a  more  favorable  opportunity, 
wjhich  never  occurred.  In  the  year  1777  Mr.  Bushnell  made 
an  attempt  from  a  whale-boat,  against  "  The  Cerberus,"  fri 
gate,  lying  at  anchor,  by  drawing  a  machine  against  her  side 
by  means  of  a  line.  The  machine  was  loaded  with  powder, 
to  be  exploded  by  a  gunlock,  which  was  to  be  unpinioned  by 
an  apparatus  to  be  turned  by  being  brought  alongside  of  the 
frigate.  This  machine  fell  in  with  a  schooner  at  anchor 
astern  of  the  frigate,  and  concealed  from  his  sight.  By  some 
means  it  became  fixed,  and,  exploding,  demolished  the  schoon 
er.  Commodore  Simmons,  being  on  board  "  The  Cerberus," 
addressed  an  official  letter  to  Sir  Peter  Parker,  describing  this 
singular  disaster.  Being  at  anchor  to  the  westward  of  New 
London,  with  a  schooner  which  he  had  taken,  discovered, 
about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  a  line,  towing  astern 
from  the  bows.  He  believed  that  some  person  had  veered 
away  by  it,  and  immediately  began  to  haul  in.  A  sailor  be 
longing  to  the  schooner,  taking  it  for  a  fishing-line,  laid  hold 
of  it,  and  drew  in  about  fifteen  fathoms.  It  was  buoyed  up 
by  small  pieces  of  wood  tied  to  it  at  stated  distances.  At  the 
end  of  the  rope,  a  machine  was  fastened,  too  heavy  for  one 
man  to  pull  up;  for  it  exceeded  one  hundred  pounds  in 
weight.  The  other  people  of  the  schooner  coming  to  his 
assistance,  they  drew  it  on  deck.  While  the  men  were  exam 
ining  the  machine,  about  five  minutes  from  the  time  the 
wheel  had  been  put  in  motion,  it  exploded,  blew  the  vessel 
into  pieces,  and  set  her  on  fire.  Three  men  were  killed,  and 
the  fourth  blown  into  the  water  much  injured.  On  examining 
round  the  ship  after  this  accident,  the  other  part  of  the  line 
was  discovered,  buoyed  up  in  the  same  manner.  This  the 
commodore  ordered  to  be  instantly  cut  away,  for  fear  of 
hauling  up  another  of  the  infernals,  as  he  termed  it.  These 
machines  were  constructed  with  wheels,  furnished  with  irons 
sharpened  at  the  end,  and  projecting  about  an  inch,  in  order 


1 90  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

to  strike  the  sides  of  the  vessel  when  hauling  them  up,  there 
by  setting  the  wheels  in  motion,  which  in  the  space  of  five 
minutes  causes  the  explosion.  Had  the  whole  apparatus 
been  brought  to  operate  on  a  ship  at  the  same  time,  it  must 
have  occasioned  prodigious  destruction. 

JOE  BETTYS. 

[At  a  convivial  meeting,  at  which  the  healths  of  the  captors 
of  Andre  were  drunk,  a  toast  was  also  proposed  to  the  memo 
ry  of  Fulmer,  Cory,  and  Perkins,  who  achieved  the  capture 
of  Joseph  Bettys,  a  distinguished  traitor  and  spy.  Col.  Ball, 
who  presided,  made  the  following  statement  respecting  the 
exploit.] 

During  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  I  was  an  officer  in  the 
New  York  line,  in  the  regiment  commanded  by  Col.  Wynkoop. 
Being  acquainted  with  Bettys,  who  was  a  citizen  of  Ballston, 
and  knowing  him  to  be  bold,  athletic,  and  intelligent  in  an  un 
common  degree,  I  was  desirous  of  obtaining  his  services  for 
my  country,  and  succeeded  in  enlisting  him  as  a  sergeant.  He 
was  afterwards  reduced  to  the  ranks,  on  account  of  some 
insolence  to  an  officer,  who,  he  said,  had  abused  him  without 
a  cause.  Knowing  his  irritable  and  determined  spirit,  and 
unwilling  to  lose  him,  I  procured  him  the  rank  of  sergeant 
in  the  fleet  commanded  by  Gen.  Arnold  (afterwards  the  dis 
tinguished  traitor)  on  Lake  Champlain  in  1776.  Bettys  was 
in  that  desperate  fight  which  took  place  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  campaign,  between  the  British  and  American  fleets  on 
that  lake,  and,  being  a  skilful  seaman,  was  of  signal  service 
during  the  battle.  He  fought  until  every  commissioned  offi 
cer  on  board  his  vessel  was  killed  or  wounded,  and  then 
assumed  command  himself,  and  continued  to  fight  with  such 
reckless  courage,  that  Gen.  Waterbury,  who  was  second  in 
command  under  Arnold,  perceiving  the  vessel  was  likely  to 
sink,  was  obliged  to  order  Bettys  and  the  remnant  of  his  crew 
on  board  his  own  vessel ;  and,  having  noticed  his  extraordi 
nary  bravery  and  conduct,  he  placed  him  on  the  quarter-deck 
by  his  side,  and  gave  orders  through  him,  until  the  vessel, 


JOE  BETTYS.  IQt 

becoming  altogether  crippled,  the  crew  mostly  killed,  himself 
wounded,  and  only  two  officers  left,  the  colors  were  struck  to 
the  enemy.  Gen.  Waterbury  aftenvards  told  my  father,  that 
he  never  saw  a  man  behave  with  such  deliberate  desperation 
as  Bettys,  and  that  the  shrewdness  of  his  management 
showed  that  his  conduct  was  not  inferior  to  his  courage. 
After  the  action,  Bettys  went  to  Canada,  turned  traitor  to  his 
country,  received  an  ensign's  commission  in  the  British  army, 
became  a  spy,  and  proved  himself  a  most  dangerous  and  subtle 
enemy.  He  was  at  length  arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to 
be  hung  at  West  Point.  But  the  entreaties  of  his  aged 
parents,  and  the  solicitations  of  influential  Whigs,  induced 
Gen.  Washington  to  pardon  him  on  promise  of  amendment. 
But  it  was  in  vain.  The  generosity  of  the  act  only  added 
rancor  to  his  hatred  ;  and  the  Whigs  of  the  section  of  the 
country,  especially  of  Ballston,  had  deep  occasion  to  remem 
ber  the  traitor,  and  to  regret  the  unfortunate  lenity  they  had 
caused  to  be  shown  him.  He  recruited  soldiers  for  the  king 
in  the  very  heart  of  the  country.  He  captured  and  carried 
off  the  most  zealous  and  efficient  patriots,  and  subjected  them 
to  the  greatest  suffering ;  and  those  against  whom  he  bore 
particular  malice  lost  their  dwellings  by  fire,  or  lives  by  mur 
der,  and  all  this  while  the  British  commander  kept  him  in 
employ  as  a  faithful  and  most  successful  messenger,  and  a 
cunning  and  intelligent  spy.  No  fatigue  wearied  his  resolu 
tion,  no  distance  was  an  obstacle  to  his  purpose,  and  no  dan 
ger  appalled  his  courage.  No  one  felt  secure.  Sometimes, 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  he  came  by  stealth  upon  us  ;  and 
sometimes,  even  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  he  was  prowling 
about  as  if  unconscious  of  any  danger.  He  boldly  proclaimed 
himself  a  desperado  ;  that  he  carried  his  life  in  his  hand  ;  that 
he  was  as  careless  of  it  as  he  should  be  of  that  of  others,  should 
they  undertake  to  catch  him  ;  that  his  liberty  was  guarded  by 
his  life,  and  whoever  should  undertake  to  deprive  him  of  it 
must  expect  to  mingle  their  blood  with  his.  And  it  was  well 
understood  that  what  Bettys  said  Bettys  meant,  and  as  well 
ascertained,  that  when  he  came  among  us  to  perpetrate  his 


NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

mischief,  that  he  generally  brought  with  him  a  band  of  refu 
gees,  and  concealed  them  in  the  neighborhood,  to  assist  him 
in  the  accomplishment  cf  his  purposes.  Still  there  were 
many  who  resolved  on  his  apprehension,  be  the  danger  what 
it  might ;  and  many  ineffectual  attempts  were  made  for  that 
purpose.  But  he  eluded  all  their  vigilance  till  some  time  in 
the  winter  of  1781-82,  when  a  suspicious  stranger  was  ob 
served  in  the  neighborhood,  in  snow-shoes,  and  well  armed. 
Cory  and  Perkins,  on  information  from  Fulmcr,  immediately 
armed  themselves,  and,  together  with  Fulmer,  proceeded  in 
pursuit.  They  traced  him,  by  a  circuitous  track,  to  the  house 
of  a  Tory :  they  consulted  a  moment,  and  then,  by  a  sudden 
effort  bursting  open  the  door,  rushed  upon  him,  and  seized 
him,  before  he  had  an  opportunity  of  effecting  any  resistance. 
He  was  at  his  meal,  with  his  pistols  lying  on  the  table,  and 
his  rifle  resting  on  his  arm.  He  made  an  attempt  to  discharge 
the  latter,  but,  not  having  taken  the  precaution  to  undo  the 
deerskin  cover  that  was  over  the  lock,  did  not  succeed.  He 
was  then  pinioned  so  firmly,  that  to  resist  was  useless,  and  to 
escape  impossible  ;  and  the  notorious  Bettys,  cheated  cf  all 
his  threats,  and  foiled  in  his  most  particular  resolution,  was 
obliged  to  yield  himself  a  tame  and  quiet  prisoner  to  the 
enterprise  and  daring  of  Fulmcr,  Cory,  and  Perkins.  He 
asked  leave  to  smoke,  which  being  granted,  he  took  out  his 
tobacco,  and  with  it  something  else,  which  when  unobserved, 
as  he  hoped,  he  threw  into  the  fire  ;  but  Cory  saw  it,  and  im 
mediately  snatched  it  out  with  a  handful  cf  coals.  It  was  a 
small  leaden  box,  about  the  eighth  of  an  inch  in  thickness, 
and  contained  a  paper  in  cipher,  which  they  could  not  read  ; 
but  it  was  afterwards  discovered  to  be  a  despatch  to  the 
British  commander  at  New  York,  and  also  an  order  for  thirty 
pounds  sterling  on  the  Mayor  of  New  York,  should  the  de 
spatch  be  safely  delivered.  Bettys  begged  leave  to  burn  it,  but 
was  refused.  He  offered  them  a  hundred  guineas  if  he  might 
be  allowed  to  do  it ;  but  they  steadily  refused.  He  then  said, 
"  I  am  a  dead  man,"  but  continued  to  intercede  with  them  to 
allow  him  to  escape.  He  made  the  most  liberal  offers,  a  part 


A   DAY  WITH   WASHINGTON.  193 

of  which  he  had  present  means  to  make  good  ;  but  they  still 
refused  to  listen  to  him.  He  was  then  taken  to  Albany,  tried, 
convicted,  and  executed  as  a  spy  and  traitor  to  his  country. 
And  the  only  reward  these  daring  men  ever  received  for  their 
hazardous  achievement  was  the  rifle  and  pistols  of  Bettys. 
The  conduct  of  the  captors  of  Andrd  was  noble ;  but  that  of 
the  captors  of  Bettys  was  both  noble  and  heroic.  Andrd  was 
a  gentleman,  and  without  the  means  of  defence  :  Bettys  was 
fully  armed,  and  known  to  be  a  desperado.  The  capture  of 
the  former  was  by  accident ;  of  the  latter,  by  enterprise  and 
design.  That  of  the  former  was  without  danger ;  of  the 
latter,  at  the  imminent  peril  of  life.  Andrd  was  a  more  impor 
tant,  but  perhaps  not  a  more  dangerous  man  than  Bettys. 
Both  tempted  their  captors  with  all-seducing  gold,  and  both 
were  foiled.  And  Paulding  Williams  and  Van  Wart,  though 
venerated  in  the  highest  degree  by  me,  as  having  exhibited  a 
trait  of  character  honorable  to  the  reputation  of  their  country, 
have  not,  in  my  estimation,  claims  to  celebrity  superior  to 
those  of  Fulmer,  Cory,  and  Perkins. 

A  DAY  WITH  WASHINGTON. 

[The  Marquis  de  Chastellux,  from  whose  travels  we  have 
already  quoted,  extended  his  journey  to  New  Jersey,  where 
Washington  was  in  camp,  for  the  sake  of  visiting  the  com- 
mander-in-chief ;  and  his  narrative  of  the  reception  which 
Washington  gave  him  is  so  simple  and  picturesque,  that  we 
give  it,  omitting  only  certain  details  of  the  journey,  which 
obstruct  the  interest  in  this  particular  subject.] 

After  riding  two  miles  along  the  right  flank  of  the  army, 
and  after  passing  thick  woods  on  the  right,  I  found  myself  in 
a  small  plain,  where  I  saw  a  handsome  farm.  A  small  camp 
which  seemed  to  cover  it,  a  large  tent  extended  in  the  court, 
and  several  wagons  round  it,  convinced  me  that  this  was  his 
Excellency's  quarter ;  for  it  was  thus  Mr.  Washington  is 
called  in  the  army,  and  throughout  America.  M.  de  Lafayette 
was  in  conversation  with  a  tall  man,  five  foot  nine  inches  high 
(about  five  foot  ten  and  a  half  English),  of  a  noble  and  mild 


194  NEW  YORK  AND   THE  JERSEYS. 

countenance.  It  was  the  general  himself.  I  was  soon  off 
horseback  and  near  him.  The  compliments  were  short :  the 
sentiments  with  which  I  was  animated,  and  the  good  wishes 
he  testified  for  me,  were  not  equivocal.  He  conducted  me  to 
his  house,  where  I  found  the  company  still  at  table,  although 
the  dinner  had  been  long  over.  He  presented  me  to  the 
generals,  Knox,  Wayne,  Howe,  &c.,  and  to  his  family,  then 
composed  of  Cols.  Hamilton  and  Tighlman,  his  secretaries 
and  his  aides-de-camp,  and  of  Major  Gibbs,  commander  of  his 
guards  ;  for,  in  England  and  America,  the  aides-de-camp,  ad 
jutants,  and  other  officers  attached  to  the  general,  form  what 
is  called  his  family.  A  fresh  dinner  was  prepared  for  me,  and 
wine  ;  and  the  present  was  prolonged  to  keep  me  company. 
A  few  glasses  of  claret  and  madeira  accelerated  the  acquaint 
ances  I  had  to  make  ;  and  I  soon  felt  myself  at  ease  near  the 
greatest  and  the  best  of  men.  The  goodness  and  benevolence 
which  characterize  him  are  evident  from  every  thing  about 
him.  But  the  confidence  he  gives  birth  to  never  occasions  im 
proper  familiarity  ;  for  the  sentiment  he  inspires  has  the  same 
origin  in  every  individual, —  a  profound  esteem  for  his  virtues, 
and  a  high  opinion  of  his  talents.  About  nine  o'clock  the 
general  officers  withdrew  to  their  quarters,  which  were  all  at  a 
considerable  distance  ;  but,  as  the  general  wished  me  to  stay 
in  his  own  house,  I  remained  some  time  with  him,  after  which 
he  conducted  me  to  the  chamber  prepared  for  my  aides-de 
camp  and  me.  This  chamber  occupied  the  fourth  part  of  his 
lodging.  He  apologized  to  me  for  the  little  room  he  had  at  his 
disposal,  but  always  with  a  noble  politeness  which  was  neither 
complimentary  nor  troublesome. 

At  nine  the  next  morning  they  informed  me  that  his  Excel 
lency  was  come  down  into  the  parlor.  This  room  served  at 
once  as  audience-chamber  and  dining-room.  I  immediately 
went  to  wait  on  him,  and  found  breakfast  prepared.  .  .  .  While 
we  were  at  breakfast,  horses  were  brought ;  and  Gen.  Washing 
ton  gave  orders  for  the  army  to  get  under  arms  at  the  head 
of  the  camp.  The  weather  was  very  bad  ;  and  it  had  already 
begun  raining.  We  waited  half  an  hour  ;  but  the  general,  see- 


A   DAY  WITH  WASHINGTON.  195 

ing  that  it  was  more  likely  to  increase  than  to  diminish,  deter 
mined  to  get  on  horseback.  Two  horses  were  brought  him, 
which  were  a  present  from  the  State  of  Virginia  :  he  mounted 
one  himself,  and  gave  me  the  other.  Mr.  Lynch  and  Mr.  de 
Montesquieu  had  each  of  them,  also,  a  very  handsome  blood 
horse,  such  as  we  could  not  find  at  Newport  for  any  money. 
We  repaired  to  the  artillery  camp,  where  Gen.  Knox  received 
us.  The  artillery  was  numerous  ;  and  the  gunners,  in  very 
fine  order,  were  formed  in  parade  in  the  foreign  manner  ;  that 
is,  each  gunner  at  his  battery,  and  ready  to  fire.  The  general 
was  so  good  as  to  apologize  to  me  for  the  cannon  not  firing  to 
salute  us.  He  said,  that  having  put  all  the  troops  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river  in  motion,  and  apprised  them  that  he  might 
himself  march  along  the  right  bank,  he  was  afraid  of  giving 
the  alarm,  and  of  deceiving  the  detachments  that  were  out. 
We  gained,  at  length,  the  right  of  the  army,  where  we  saw 
the  Pennsylvania  line  :  it  was  composed  of  two  brigades, 
each  forming  three  battalions,  without  reckoning  the  light 
infantry,  which  were  detached  with  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette. 
Gen.  Wayne,  who  commanded  it,  was  on  horseback,  as  well  as 
the  brigadiers  and  colonels.  They  were  all  well  mounted.  The 
officers  also  had  a  very  military  air :  they  were  well  ranged, 
and  saluted  very  gracefully.  Each  brigade  had  a  band  of 
music  :  the  march  they  were  then  playing  was  the  Huron.  I 
heard  that  this  line,  though  in  want  of  many  things,  was  the 
best  clothed  in  the  army ;  so  that,  his  Excellency  asking  me 
whether  I  would  proceed  and  see  the  whole  army,  or  go  by 
the  shortest  road  to  the  camp  of  the  marquis,  I  accepted  the 
latter  proposal.  The  troops  ought  to  thank  me  for  it ;  for  the 
rain  was  falling  with  redoubled  force.  They  were  dismissed, 
therefore ;  and  we  arrived,  heartily  wet,  at  the  Marquis  de 
Lafayette's  quarters,  where  I  warmed  myself  with  great  pleas 
ure,  partaking  from  time  to  time  of  a  large  bowl  of  grog,  which 
is  stationary  on  his  table,  and  is  presented  to  every  officer  who 
enters.  The  rain  appearing  to  cease,  or  inclined  to  cease  for 
a  moment,  we  availed  ourselves  of  the  opportunity  to  follow 
his  Excellency  to  the  camp  of  the  marquis.  We  found  all  his 


196  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

troops  in  order  of  battle  on  the  heights  to  the  left,  and  him 
self  at  their  head,  expressing  by  his  air  and  countenance 
that  he  was  happier  in  receiving  me  there  than  at  his  estate 
in  Auvergne.  .  .  . 

The  rain  spared  us  no  more  at  the  camp  of  the  marquis 
than  at  that  of  the  main  army  ;  so  that,  our  review  being  fin 
ished,  I  saw  with  pleasure  Gen.  Washington  set  off  in  a  gallop 
to  regain  his  quarters.  We  reached  them  as  soon  as  the  bad 
ness  of  the  roads  would  permit  us.  At  our  return  we  found 
a  good  dinner  ready,  and  about  twenty  guests,  among  whom 
were  Gens.  Howe  and  Sinclair.  The  repast  was  in  the  English 
fashion,  consisting  of  eight  or  ten  large  dishes  of  butcher's 
meat  and  poultry,  *with  vegetables  of  several  sorts,  followed 
by  a  second  course  of  pastry,  comprised  under  the  two  denomi 
nations  of  pies  and  puddings.  After  this,  the  cloth  was  taken 
off ;  and  apples,  and  a  great  quantity  of  nuts,  were  served, 
which  Gen.  Washington  usually  continues  eating  for  two  hours, 
toasting  and  conversing  all  the  time.  These  nuts  are  small 
and  dry,  and  have  so  hard  a  shell  (hickory-nuts),  that  they  can 
only  be  broken  by  the  hammer :  they  are  served  half  open ; 
and  the  company  are  never  done  picking  and  eating  them. 
The  conversation  was  calm  and  agreeable.  His  Excellency  was 
pleased  to  enter  with  me  into  the  particulars  of  some  of  the 
principal  operations  of  the  war,  but  always  with  a  modesty  and 
conciseness  which  proved  that  it  was  from  pure  complaisance 
he  mentioned  it.  About  half-past  seven  we  rose  from  table  ; 
and  immediately  the  servants  came  to  shorten  it,  and  convert 
it  into  a  round  one  ;  for  at  dinner  it  was  placed  diagonally,  to 
give  more  room.  I  was  surprised  at  this  manoeuvre,  and  asked 
the  reason  of  it.  I  was  told  they  were  going  to  lay  the  cloth 
for  supper.  In  half  an  hour  I  retired  to  my  chamber,  fearing 
lest  the  general  might  have  business,  and  that  he  remained  in 
company  only  on  my  account  ;  but,  at  the  end  of  another  half 
hour,  I  was  informed  that  his  Excellency  expected  me  at  sup 
per.  I  returned  to  the  dining-room,  protesting  against  this 
supper  ;  but  the  general  told  me  he  was  accustomed  to  take 
something  in  the  evening  ;  that,  if  I  would  be  seated,  I  should 


THE   CUSTOM  OF  TOASTING.  197 

only  eat  some  fruit,  and  assist  in  the  conversation.  I  desired 
nothing  better,  for  there  were  then  no  strangers,  and  nobody 
remained  but  the  general's  family.  The  supper  was  composed 
of  three  or  four  light  dishes,  some  fruit,  and,  above  all,  a  great 
abundance  of  nuts,  which  were  as  well  received  in  the  evening 
as  at  dinner.  The  cloth  being  soon  removed,  a  few  bottles  of 
good  claret  and  madeira  were  placed  on  the  table.  Every  sen 
sible  man  will  be  of  my  opinion,  that  being  a  French  officer, 
under  the  orders  of  Gen.  Washington,  and,  what  is  more,  a  good 
Whig,  I  could  not  refuse  a  glass  of  wine  offered  me  by  him  ; 
but  I  confess  that  I  had  little  merit  in  this  complaisance,  and 
that,  less  accustomed  to  drink  than  anybody,  I  accommodated 
myself  very  well  to  the  English  mode  of  toasting.  You  have 
very  small  glasses  ;  you  pour  out  yourself  the  quantity  of  wine 
you  choose,  without  being  pressed  to  take  more  ;  and  the  toast 
is  only  a  sort  of  check  in  the  conversation,  to  remind  each  in 
dividual  that  he  forms  part  of  the  company,  and  that  the  whole 
form  only,  one  society.  I  observed  that  there  was  more  solem 
nity  in  the  toasts  at  dinner.  There  were  several  ceremonious 
ones  :  the  others  were  suggested  by  the  general,  and  given  out 
by  his  aides-de-camp,  who  performed  the  honors  of  the  table 
at  dinner  ;  for  one  of  them  is  every  day  seated  at  the  bottom 
of  the  table,  near  the  general,  to  serve  the  company,  and  dis 
tribute  the  bottles.  The  toasts  in  the  evening  were  given  by 
Col.  Hamilton,  without  order  or  ceremony.  .  .  . 

THE  CUSTOM  OF  TOASTING. 

These  healths,  or  toasts,  as  I  have  already  observed,  have  no 
inconvenience,  and  only  serve  to  prolong  the  conversation, 
which  is  always  more  animated  at  the  end  of  the  repast.  They 
oblige  you  to  commit  no  excess,  wherein  they  greatly  differ 
from  the  German  healths,  and  from  those  we  still  give  in  our 
garrisons  and  provinces.  But  I  find  it  an  absurd  and  truly 
barbarous  practice,  the  first  time  you  drink,  and  at  the  begin 
ning  of  dinner,  to  call  out  successively  to  each  individual,  to 
let  him  know  you  drink  his  health.  The  actor  in  this  ridicu 
lous  comedy  is  sometimes  ready  to  die  with  thirst,  whilst  he  is 


198  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

obliged  to  inquire  the  names,  or  catch  the  eyes,  of  five  and 
twenty  or  thirty  persons,  and  the  unhappy  persons  to  whom 
he  addresses  himself,  with  impatience  ;  for  it  is  certainly  not 
possible  for  one  to  bestow  a  very  great  attention  to  what  one 
is  eating,  and  what  is  said  to  one,  being  incessantly  called  to 
on  the  right  and  left,  or  pulled  by  the  sleeve  by  charitable 
neighbors,  who  are  so  kind  as  to  acquaint  one  with  the  polite 
ness  one  is  receiving.  The  most  civil  of  the  Americans  are 
not  content  with  this  general  call :  every  time  they  drink,  they 
make  partial  ones,  for  example,  four  or  five  persons  at  a  time. 
Another  custom  completes  the  despair  of  poor  foreigners,  if 
they  be  ever  so  little  absent,  or  have  good  appetites  :  these 
general  and  partial  attacks  terminate  in  downright  duels.  They 
call  to  you  from  one  end  of  the  table  to  the  other,  "  Sir,  will 
you  permit  me  to  drink  a  glass  of  wine  with  you  ?  "  This  pro 
posal  always  is  accepted,  and  does  not  admit  the  excuse  of  the 
great  Cousin,  "  One  does  not  drink  without  being  acquainted." 
The  bottle  is  then  passed  to  you,  and  you  must  look  your 
enemy  in  the  face  ;  for  I  can  give  no  other  name  to  the  man 
who  exercises  such  an  empire  over  my  will.  You  wait  till  he, 
likewise,  has  poured  out  his  wine,  and  taken  his  glass  ;  you  then 
drink  mournfully  with  him,  as  a  recruit  imitates  the  corporal  in 
his  exercise.  But  to  do  justice  to  the  Americans,  they  them 
selves  feel  the  ridicule  of  these  customs  borrowed  from  Old 
England,  and  since  laid  aside  by  her. 

A  PORTRAIT  OF  WASHINGTON. 

[The  person  of  Washington  appears  slightly  sketched  in 
the  Marquis  de  Chastellux's  account;  but  there  is  a  more 
direct  and  studied  portraiture  in  the  Military  Journal  of  Dr. 
James  Thacher.] 

His  Excellency  the  commander-in-chief  made  a  visit  to  our 
hospital :  his  arrival  was  scarcely  announced  before  he  pre 
sented  himself  at  our  doors.  Dr.  Williams  and  myself  had 
the  honor  to  wait  on  this  great  and  truly  good  man  through 
the  different  wards,  and  to  reply  to  his  inquiries  relative 
to  the  condition  of  our  patients.  He  appeared  to  take  a  deep 


A  PORTRAIT  OF  WASHINGTON.  199 

interest  in  the  situation  of  the  sick  and  wounded  soldiers, 
and  inquired  particularly  as  to  their  treatment  and  comforta 
ble  accommodations.  Not  being  apprised  of  his  intended 
visit  in  time  to  make  preparation  for  his  reception,  we  were 
not  entirely  free  from  embarrassment ;  but  we  had  the  in 
expressible  satisfaction  of  receiving  his  Excellency's  approba 
tion  of  our  conduct  as  respects  the  duties  of  our  department. 
The  personal  appearance  of  our  commander-in-chief  is  that 
of  the  perfect  gentleman  and  accomplished  warrior.  He  is 
remarkably  tall,  full  six  feet,  erect,  and  well  proportioned. 
The  strength  and  proportion  of  his  joints  and  muscles  appear 
to  be  commensurate  with  the  pre-eminent  powers  of  his  mind. 
The  serenity  of  his  countenance,  and  majestic  gracefulness 
of  his  deportment,  impart  a  strong  impression  of  that  dignity 
and  grandeur  which  are  his  peculiar  characteristics  ;  and  no 
one  can  stand  in  his  presence  without  feeling  the  ascendency 
of  his  mind,  and  associating  with  his  countenance  the  idea 
of  wisdom,  philanthropy,  magnanimity,  and  patriotism.  There 
is  a  fine  symmetry  in  the  features  of  his  face,  indicative  of  a 
benign  and  dignified  spirit. 

His  nose  is  straight,  and  his  eyes  inclined  to  blue.  He 
wears  his  hair  in  a  becoming  cue  ;  and  from  his  forehead  it  is 
turned  back,  and  powdered,  in  a  manner  which  adds  to  the 
military  air  of  his  appearance.  He  displays  a  native  gravity, 
but  devoid  of  all  appearance  of  ostentation.  His  uniform 
dress  is  a  blue  coat  with  two  brilliant  epaulets,  buff-colored 
under-clothes,  and  a  three-cornered  hat  with  a  black  cockade. 
He  is  constantly  equipped  with  an  elegant  small-sword,  boots, 
and  spurs,  in  readiness  to  mount  his  noble  charger.  There  is 
not  in  the  present  age,  perhaps,  another  man  so  eminently 
qualified  to  discharge  the  arduous  duties  of  the  exalted  sta 
tion  he  is  called  to  sustain,  amidst  difficulties  which  to  others 
would  appear  insurmountable  ;  nor  could  any  man  have  more 
at  command  the  veneration  and  regard  of  the  officers  and 
soldiers  of  our  army,  even  after  defeat  and  misfortune.  This 
is  the  illustrious  chief  whom  a  kind  Providence  has  decreed 
as  the  instrument  to  conduct  our  country  to  peace  and  to 
independence. 


2OO  NEW  YORK  AND    THE  JERSEYS. 

PRINCETON  AND  DR.  WITHERSPOON. 

[It  was  on  the  same  journey  that  De  Chastellux  visited 
Princeton,  N.J.,  and  paid  his  respects  to  Dr.  Witherspoon.] 

This  town  is  situated  on  a  sort  of  platform,  not  much  ele 
vated,  but  which  commands  on  all  sides.  It  has  only  one 
street,  formed  by  the  high-road.  There  are  about  sixty  or 
eighty  houses,  all  tolerably  well  built :  but  little  attention  is 
paid  them  ;  for  that  is  immediately  attracted  by  an  immense 
building,  which  is  visible  at  a  considerable  distance.  It  is  a 
college,  built  by  the  State  of  Jersey  some  years  before  the 
war.  As  this  building  is  only  remarkable  from  its  size,  it  is 
unnecessary  to  describe  it.  ...  The  object  which  excited  my 
curiosity,  though  very  foreign  from  letters  at  that  moment, 
brought  me  to  the  very  gate  of  the  college.  I  dismounted  for 
a  moment  to  visit  this  vast  edifice,  and  was  soon  joined  by 
Dr.  Witherspoon,  president  of  the  university.  He  is  a  man 
of  at  least  sixty  ;  is  a  member  of  Congress,  and  much  respected 
in  this  country.  In  accosting  me,  he  spoke  French  :  but  I 
easily  perceived  that  he  had  acquired  his  knowledge  of  that 
language  from  reading,  rather  than  from  conversation  ;  which 
did  not  prevent  me,  however,  from  answering  him,  and  con 
tinuing  to  converse  with  him,  in  French,  for  I  saw  that  he  was 
well  pleased  to  display  what  he  knew  of  it.  This  is  an  atten 
tion  which  costs  little,  and  is  too  much  neglected  in  a  foreign 
country.  To  reply  in  English  to  a  person  who  speaks  French 
to  you  is  to  tell  him,  "  You  do  not  know  my  language  so  well 
as  I  do  yours."  In  this,  too,  one  is  not  unfrequently  mistaken. 
As  for  me,  I  always  like  better  to  have  the  advantage  on  my 
side,  and  to  fight  on  my  own  ground.  I  conversed  in  French, 
therefore,  with  the  president ;  and  from  him  I  learned  that 
this  college  is  a  complete  university ;  that  it  can  contain  two 
hundred  students,  and  more,  including  the  outboarders  ;  tha-t 
the  distribution  of  the  studies  is  formed  so  as  to  make  only 
one  class  for  the  humanities,  which  corresponds  with  our  first 
four  classes  ;  that  two  others  are  destined  to  the  perfecting 
the  youth  in  the  study  of  Latin  and  Greek  ;  a  fourth,  to 


PRINCETON  AND  DR.    WITHERSPOON.       2OI 

natural  philosophy,  mathematics,  astronomy,  &c. ;  and  a  fifth, 
to  moral  philosophy.  Parents  may  support  their  children  at 
this  college  at  the  annual  expense  of  forty  guineas.  Half  of 
this  sum  is  appropriated  to  lodgings  and  masters  :  the  rest  is 
sufficient  for  living  either  in  the  college,  or  at  board  in  private 
houses  in  the  town.  This  useful  establishment  has  fallen  into 
decay  since  the  war.  There  were  only  forty  students  when  I 
saw  it.  A  handsome  collection  of  books  had  been  made,  the 
greatest  part  of  which  has  been  embezzled.  The  English 
even  carried  off  from  the  chapel  the  portrait  of  the  King  of 
England,  —  a  loss  for  which  the  Americans  easily  consoled 
themselves,  declaring  they  would  have  no  king  amongst  them, 
not  even  a  painted  one. 


PENNSYLVANIA. 


A  PHILADELPHIA  SCHOOLMASTER. 

| HE  materials  are  abundant  for  obtaining  a  view  of 
the  social  condition  of  what  was  at  the  time  the  fore 
most  city  in  America,  and  from  these  materials  we 
propose  to  draw  in  presenting  a  picture  of  manners 
and  customs  ;  but  first  we  put  ourselves  under  the  personal 
lead  of  a  very  agreeable  gentleman,  Alexander  Graydon,  Esq., 
whose  reminiscences  extend  back  to  a  period  shortly  before 
the  beginning  of  the  war,  at  which  time  he  was  about  twenty 
years  of  age.  His  more  distinct  recollections  begin  with  the 
removal  of  his  family  from  Bristol,  Penn.,  to  Philadelphia, 
when  he  was  six  or  seven  years  old.] 

In  the  city,  I  lived  with,  and  was  under  the  care  of,  my 
grandfather.  The  school  he  first  put  me  to  was  that  of  David 
James  Dove,  an  Englishman,  and  much  celebrated  in  his  day 
as  a  teacher,  and  no  less  as  a  dealer  in  the  minor  kind  of 
satirical  poetry.  To  him  were  attributed  some  political  effu 
sions  in  this  way,  which  were  thought  highly  of  by  his  party, 
and  made  a  good  deal  of  noise.  He  had  also  made  some 
figure,  it  seems,  in  the  Old  World  ;  being  spoken  of,  as  I  have 
heard  (though  in  what  way  I  know  not,  having  never  seen  the 
work),  in  a  book  entitled  "  The  Life  and  Adventures  of  the 
Chevalier  Taylor."  As  the  story  went,  some  one  reading  this 
performance  to  Mr.  Dove  on  its  first  appearance,  with  the 
mischievous  design  of  amusing  himself  at  his  expense,  as  he 
knew  what  the  book  contained,  he  (Dove)  bore  testimony  to 


A   PHILADELPHIA   SCHOOLMASTER.          2O3 

the  truth  of  the  contents,  with  which,  he  said,  he  was  per 
fectly  acquainted,  exclaiming  as  the  reader  went  along,  "  True, 
true  as  the  gospel ! "  But  when  the  part  was  reached  in  which 
he  himself  is  introduced  in  a  situation  somewhat  ridiculous, 
he  cried  out  it  was  a  lie,  a  most  abominable  lie,  and  that  there 
was  not  a  syllable  of  truth  in  the  story.  At  any  rate,  Dove 
was  a  humorist,  and  a  person  not  unlikely  to  be  engaged  in 
ludicrous  scenes.  It  was  his  practice,  in  his  school,  to  substi 
tute  disgrace  for  corporal  punishment.  His  birch  was  rarely 
used  in  canonical  method,  but  was  generally  stuck  into  the 
back  part  of  the  collar  of  the  unfortunate  culprit,  who,  with 
this  badge  of  disgrace  towering  from  his  nape,  like  a  broom  at 
the  masthead  of  a  vessel  for  sale,  was  compelled  to  take  his 
stand  upon  the  top  of  the  form  for  such  a  period  of  time  as 
his  offence  was  thought  to  deserve.  He  had  another  con 
trivance  for  boys  who  were  late  in  their  morning  attendance. 
This  was  to  despatch  a  committee  of  five  or  six  scholars  for 
them,  with  a  bell  and  lighted  lantern  ;  and  in  this  "  odd  equi 
page,"  in  broad  daylight,  the  bell  all  the  while  tingling,  were 
they  escorted  through  the  streets  to  school.  As  Dove  affected 
a  strict  regard  to  justice  in  his  dispensations  of  punishment, 
and  always  professed  a  willingness  to  have  an  equal  measure 
of  it  meted  out  to  himself  in  case  of  his  transgressing,  the 
boys  took  him  at  his  word ;  and  one  morning,  when  he  had 
overstaid  his  time,  either  through  laziness,  inattention,  or 
design,  he  found  himself  waited  on  in  the  usual  form.  He 
immediately  admitted  the  justice  of  the  procedure,  and,  putting 
himself  behind  the  lantern  and  bell,  marched  with  great 
solemnity  to  school,  to  the  no  small  gratification  of  the  boys, 
and  entertainment  of  the  spectators.  But  this  incident  took 
place  before  I  became  a  scholar.  It  was  once  my  lot  to  be 
attended  in  this  manner  ;  but  what  had  been  sport  to  my  tutor 
was  to  me  a  serious  punishment. 

The  school  was  at  this  time  kept  in  VidelFs  Alley,  which 
opened  into  Second,  a  little  below  Chestnut  Street.  It  counted 
a  number  of  scholars  of  both  sexes,  though  chiefly  boys  ;  and 
the  assistant,  or  writing-master,  was  John  Reily,  a  very  expert 


204  PE  NNS  YL  VA  NIA . 

penman  and  conveyancer,  a  man  of  some  note,  who,  in  his 
gayer  moods,  affected  a  pompous  and  technical  phraseology, 
as  he  is  characterized  under  the  name  of  Parchment  in  a  farce 
written  some  forty  years  ago,  and  which,  having  at  least  the 
merit  of  novelty  and  personality,  was  a  very  popular  drama, 
though  never  brought  upon  the  stage.  Some  years  afterwards, 
Dove  removed  to  Germantown,  where  he  erected  a  large 
stone  building,  in  the  view  of  establishing  an  academy  upon  a 
large  scale  ;  but  I  believe  his  success  was  not  answerable  to 
his  expectations.  I  know  not  what  my  progress  was  under 
the  auspices  of  Mr.  Dove  ;  but  having  never,  in  my  early  years, 
been  smitten  with  the  love  of  learning,  I  have  reason  to  con 
clude  it  did  not  pass  mediocrity.  I  recollect  a  circumstance, 
however,  which  one  afternoon  took  place  at  my  grandfather's, 
to  the  no  small  entertainment  of  the  old  gentleman,  who  often 
adverted  to  it  afterwards.  Dove  was  there,  and  in  endeavoring 
to  correct  my  utterance  (as  I  had  an  ill  habit  of  speaking 
with  my  teeth  closed,  as  if  indifferent  whether  I  spoke  or  not), 
he  bawled  out  in  one  of  his  highest  tones,  "  Why  don't  you 
speak  louder  ?  Open  your  mouth  like  a  Dutchman :  say 
yaw."  * 

1  This  DOVE  was  a  satirical  poet,  and  has  been  described  by  Judge  Peters,  an 
early  pupil  of  his,  as  a  "  sarcastical  and  ill-tempered  doggerelizer,  who  was  but 
ironically  Dove  ;  for  his  temper  was  that  of  a  hawk,  and  his  pen  the  beak  of  a  fal 
con  pouncing  on  innocent  prey." 

He  became,  says  Watson,  a  teacher  of  languages  in  the  Philadelphia  Academy, 
and  was  chiefly  conspicuous  for  the  part  he  took  in  the  politics  of  the  day,  and  by 
his  caustic  rhymes  in  ridicule  of  his  opponents.  He  wrote  poetical  illustrations  to 
accompany  the  caricatures  which  abounded  in  his  time,  and  was  himself,  in  turn,  a 
rich  subject  for  the  caricaturist.  Watson  records  a  characteristic  anecdote  of 
Charles  Thomson,  secretary  to  the  Congress  of  1776.  When  young,  Thomson 
resided  in  the  family  of  Dove,  who,  with  his  wife,  was  much  addicted  to  scandal,  a 
propensity  in  the  highest  degree  offensive  to  the  honorable  nature  of  the  future 
secretary.  Wishing  to  leave  them,  but  dreading  their  tongues,  he  adopted  an  in 
genious  expedient  to  prevent  their  injurious  exercise.  He  gravely  inquired  of 
them  one  evening,  if  his  conduct  as  a  boarder  had  been  satisfactory  to  them. 
They  promptly  replied  in  the  affirmative.  "  Would  you,  then,"  asked  Thomson, 
"be  willing  to  give  me  a  certificate  to  that  effect?"  —  "  Oh,  certainly !"  A  cer 
tificate  was  accordingly  given ;  and  the  next  day  he  parted  from  them  in  peace.  — 
y.  S.  LUtell. 


MR.   JOHN  BEVERIDGE.  2O5 

MR.  JOHN  BEVERIDGE. 

I  have  said  that  I  entered  the  Latin  School.  The  person 
whose  pupil  I  was  consequently  to  become  was  Mr.  John 
Beveridge,  a  native  of  Scotland,  who  retained  the  smack  of 
his  vernacular  tongue  in  its  primitive  purity.  His  acquaint 
ance  with  the  language  he  taught  was,  I  believe,  justly 
deemed  to  be  very  accurate  and  profound ;  but,  as  to  his 
other  acquirements  (after  excepting  the  game  of  backgammon, 
in  which  he  was  said  to  excel),  truth  will  not  warrant  me  in 
saying  a  great  deal.  He  was,  however,  diligent  and  laborious 
in  his  attention  to  his  school ;  and  had  he  possessed  the 
faculty  of  making  himself  beloved  by  the  scholars,  and  of 
exciting  their  emulation  and  exertion,  nothing  would  have 
been  wanting  in  him  to  an  entire  qualification  for  his  office. 
But,  unfortunately,  he  had  no  dignity  of  character,  and  was 
no  less  destitute  of  the  art  of  making  himself  respected  than 
beloved.  Though  not,  perhaps,  to  be  complained  of  as  in 
tolerably  severe,  he  yet  made  a  pretty  free  use  of  the  rattan 
and  the  ferule,  but  to  very  little  purpose.  He  was,  in  short,  no 
disciplinarian,  and  consequently  very  unequal  to  the  manage 
ment  of  seventy  or  eighty  boys,  many  of  whom  were  superla 
tively  pickle  and  unruly.  He  was  assisted,  indeed,  by  two 
ushers,  who  eased  him  in  the  burden  of  teaching,  but  who,  in 
matters  of  discipline,  seemed  disinclined  to  interfere,  and  dis 
posed  to  consider  themselves  rather  as  subjects  than  rulers. 
I  have  seen  them  slyly  slip  out  of  the  way  when  the  principal 
was  entering  upon  the  job  of  capitally  punishing  a  boy,  who, 
from  his  size,  would  be  likely  to  make  resistance.  For  this 
had  become  nearly  a  matter  of  course  ;  and  poor  Beveridge, 
who  was  diminutive  in  his  stature,  and  neither  young  nor 
vigorous,  after  exhausting  himself  in  the  vain  attempt  to 
denude  the  delinquent,  was  generally  glad  to  compound  for  a 
few  strokes  over  his  clothes,  on  any  part  that  was  accessible. 
He  had,  indeed,  so  frequently  been  foiled,  that  his  birch  at 
length  was  rarely  brought  forth,  and  might  truly  be  said  to 
have  lost  its  terrors :  it  was  tanquam  gladium  in  vagina 


206  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

repositum.  He  indemnified  himself,  however,  by  a  redoubled 
use  of  his  rattan. 

So  entire  was  the  want  of  respect  towards  him,  and  so  liable 
was  he  to  be  imposed  upon,  that  one  of  the  larger  boys,  for  a 
wager,  once  pulled  off  his  wig,  which  he  effected  by  suddenly 
twitching  it  from  his  head  under  pretence  of  brushing  from  it 
a  spider  ;  and  the  unequivocal  insult  was  only  resented  by  the 
peevish  exclamation  of  "  Hoot  mon  !  " 

Various  were  the  rogueries  that  were  played  upon  him  ;  but 
the  most  audacious  of  all  was  the  following.  At  the  hour  of 
convening  in  the  afternoon  (that  being  found  the  most  con 
venient,  from  the  circumstance  of  Mr.  Beveridge  being  usually 
a  little  beyond  the  time),  the  bell  having  rung,  the  ushers 
being  at  their  posts,  and  the  scholars  arranged  in  their  classes, 
three  or  four  of  the  conspirators  conceal  themselves  without 
for  the  purpose  of  observing  the  motions  of  their  victim.  He 
arrives,  enters  the  school,  and  is  permitted  to  proceed  until  he 
is  supposed  to  have  nearly  reached  his  chair  at  the  upper  end 
of  the  room,  when  instantly  the  door  and  every  window-shutter 
is  closed.  Now,  shrouded  in  utter  darkness,  the  most  hideous 
yells  that  can  be  conceived  are  sent  forth  from  at  least 
threescore  of  throats  ;  and  Ovids  and  Virgils  and  Horaces, 
together  with  the  more  heavy  metal  of  dictionaries,  whether  of 
Cole,  of  Young,  or  of  Ainsworth,  are  hurled  without  remorse 
at  the  head  of  the  astonished  preceptor,  who,  on  his  side, 
groping  and  crawling  under  cover  of  the  forms,  makes  the 
best  of  his  way  to  the  door.  When  attained,  and  light  re 
stored,  a  death-like  silence  ensues.  Every  boy  is  at  his  lesson : 
no  one  has  had  a  hand  or  a  voice  in  the  recent  atrocity. 
What,  then,  is  to  be  done  ?  and  who  shall  be  chastised  ? 

Scevit  air  ox  Volscens,  nee  fell  conspicit  usquam 
Auctorem,  nee  quo  se  ardens  immittere  possit. 

Fierce  Volscens  foams  with  rage,  and,  gazing  round, 
Descries  not  him  who  aimed  the  fatal  wound, 
Nor  knows  to  fix  revenge. 


MR.   JOHN  BEVERIDGE.  2O/ 

This  most  intolerable  outrage,  from  its  succeeding  beyond 
expectation,  and  being  entirely  to  the  taste  of  the  school,  had 
a  run  of  several  days,  and  was  only  then  put  a  stop  to  by  the 
interference  of  the  faculty,  who  decreed  the  most  exemplary 
punishment  on  those  who  should  be  found  offending  in  the 
premises,  and  by  taking  measures  to  prevent  a  farther  repe 
tition  of  the  enormity. 

In  the  year  1765,  Mr.  Beveridge  published  by  subscription 
a  small  collection  of  Latin  poems.  Of  their  general  merit,  I 
presume  not  to  judge  ;  but  I  think  I  have  heard  they  were  not 
much  commended  by  the  British  reviewers.  The  latinity, 
probably,  is  pure,  the  prosody  correct,  the  versification  suffi 
ciently  easy  and  sounding,  and  such  as  might  serve  to  evince  an 
intimate  acquaintance  with  the  classics  of  ancient  Rome  ;  but 
I  should  doubt  their  possessing  much  of  the  soul  of  poetry. 
One  of  them  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  an  humble  petition 
in  hexameters,  and  certainly  a  very  curious  specimen  of  pe 
dantic  mendicity.  It  is  addressed  to  Thomas  Penn,  the  pro 
prietary  of  Pennsylvania ;  and  the  poet  very  modestly  proposes 
that  he  should  bestow  upon  him  a  few  of  his  acres,  innumera 
ble,  he  observes,  as  the  sands  of  the  Delaware  ;  in  return  for 
which,  his  verse  shall  do  its  best  to  confer  immortal  fame  upon 
the  donor.  By  way  of  further  inducement  to  the  gift,  he  sets 
before  his  excellency  the  usual  ingratitude  of  an  enriched  and 
unknown  posterity  on  the  one  hand,  and,  on  the  other,  the  ad 
vantage  which  Ajax,  ^Eneas,  and  Maecenas,  derived  from  the 
Muses  of  Homer,  of  Virgil,  and  Horace.  I  never  heard,  how 
ever,  that  the  poet  was  the  better  for  his  application.  I  rather 
think  that  the  proprietor  was  of  opinion  there  was  a  want  of 
reciprocity  in  the  proposal,  and  that,  whatever  the  carmen 
Horatii  vel  Maronis  might  have  been  worth,  that  of  Mr.  Bev 
eridge  did  not  amount  to  a  very  valuable  consideration. 

But,  after  all,  it  is  perhaps  loo  much  to  expect  from  a  modern, 
• —  good  Latin,  good  poetry,  and  good  sense,  all  at  the  same 
time. 


208  PENNS  YL  VA  NIA. 


THE  PAXTON  BOYS. 

Of  all  the  cities  in  the  world,  Philadelphia  was,  for  its  size, 
perhaps  one  of  the  most  peaceable  and  unwarlike  ;  and  Grant l 
was  not  wholly  without  data  for  supposing,  that,  with  an  incon 
siderable  force,  he  could  make  his  way,  at  least  through  Penn 
sylvania.  So  much  had  the  manners  of  the  Quakers,  and  its 
long  exemption  from  hostile  alarm,  nourished  this  disposition, 
that  a  mere  handful  of  lawless  frontier-men  was  found  suffi 
cient  to  throw  the  capital  into  consternation.  The  unpunished 
and  even  applauded  massacre  of  certain  Indians  at  Lancaster, 
who,  in  the  jail  of  that  town,  had  vainly  flattered  themselves 
that  they  possessed  an  asylum,  had  so  encouraged  their  mur 
derers,  who  called  themselves  "  Paxton  Boys,"  that  they 
threatened  to  perpetrate  the  like  enormity  upon  a  number  of 
other  Indians  under  the  protection  of  government  in  the  me 
tropolis  ;  and  for  this  purpose  they  at  length  put  themselves 
in  arms,  and  actually  began  their  march.  Their  force,  though 
known  to  be  small  in  the  beginning,  continually  increased  as 
it  went  along  ;  the  vires  acquirit  eundo  being  no  less  the  attri 
bute  of  terror  than  of  fame.  Between  the  two,  the  invaders 
were  augumented  to  some  thousands  by  the  time  they  had  ap 
proached  within  a  day  or  two's  journey  of  their  object.  To 
the  credit,  however,  of  the  Philadelphians,  every  possible  effort 
was  made  to  frustrate  the  inhuman  design  of  the  banditti ;  and 
the  Quakers,  as  well  as  others  who  had  proper  feelings  on  the 
occasion,  exerted  themselves  for  the  protection  of  the  terri 
fied  Indians,  who  were  shut  up  in  the  barracks,  and  for  whose 
immediate  defence  part  of  a  British  regiment  of  foot  was  sta 
tioned  there.  But  the  citadel,  or  place  of  arms,  was  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  city,  all  around  and  within  the  old  court-house  and 
Friends'  meeting-house.  Here  stood  the  artillery,  under  the 
command  of  Capt.  Loxley,  a  very  honest  though  little,  dingy- 
looking  man,  with  regimentals  considerably  war-worn  or  tar 
nished,  —  a  very  salamander,  or  fire-drake,  in  the  public 

1  Gen.  Grant  of  the  British  army  probably. 


THE  PAX  TON  BOYS.  2OQ 

estimation,  whose  vital  air  was  deemed  the  fume  of  sulphure 
ous  explosion,  and  who,  by  whatever  means  he  had  acquired 
his  science,  was  always  put  foremost  when  great  guns  were  in 
question.  Here  it  was  that  the  grand  stand  was  to  be  made 
against  the  approaching  invaders,  who,  if  rumor  might  be 
credited,  had  now  extended  their  murderous  purposes  beyond 
the  savages,  to  their  patrons  and  abettors.  Hence  the  cause 
had  materially  changed  its  complexion  ;  and,  instead  of  resting 
on  a  basis  of  mere  humanity  and  plighted  faith,  it  had  emphati 
cally  become  the  cause  of  self-preservation,  little  doubt  being 
entertained  that  the  capital  would  be  sacked,  in  case  of  the 
predominance  of  the  barbarous  foe.  In  this  state  of  conster 
nation  and  dismay,  all  business  was  laid  aside  for  the  more 
important  occupation  of  arms.  Drums,  colors,  rusty  halberds 
and  bayonets,  were  brought  forth  from  their  lurking-places  ; 
and  as  every  good  citizen  who  had  a  sword  had  girded  it  to  his 
thigh,  so  every  one  who  had  a  gun  had  placed  it  on  his  shoulder: 
in  short,  bdla,  horrida  bella  (war,  destructive  war),  was  about 
to  desolate  the  hitherto  peaceful  streets  of  Philadelphia. 

But,  with  all  this,  the  old  proverb  was  not  belied ;  and  the 
benign  influence  of  this  ///  'wind  was  sensibly  felt  by  us 
schoolboys.  The  dreaded  event  was  overbalanced  in  our 
minds  by  the  holidays  which  were  the  effect  of  it ;  and,  so  far 
as  I  can  recall  my  feelings  on  the  occasion,  they  very  much 
preponderated  on  the  side  of  hilarity. 

As  the  defensive  army  was  without  eyes,  it  had,  of  course, 
no  better  information  than  such  as  common  bruit  could  sup 
ply  ;  and  hence  many  untoward  consequences  ensued.  One 
was  the  near  extinction  of  a  troop  of  mounted  butchers  from 
Germantown,  who,  scampering  down  Market  Street  with  the 
best  intentions  in  the  world,  were  announced  as  the  Paxton 
Boys,  and,  by  this  mistake,  very  narrowly  escaped  a  greeting 
from  the  rude  throats  of  Capt  Loxley's  artillery.  The  word 
"  FIRE  !  "  was  already  quivering  on  his  lips  ;  but  Pallas  came 
•in  shape  of  something,  and  suppressed  it.  Another  emanation 
from  this  unmilitary  defect  of  vision  was  the  curious  order, 
that  every  householder  in  Market  Street  should  affix  one  or 


2  I O  PENNS  YL  VA NIA. 

more  candles  at  his  door  before  daylight,  on  the  morning  of 
the  day  on  which,  from  some  sufficient  reason  no  doubt,  it 
had  been  elicited  that  the  enemy  would  full  surely  make  his 
attack,  and  by  no  other  than  this  identical  route,  on  the  cita 
del.  Whether  this  illumination  was  merely  intended  to  pre 
vent  surprise,  or  whether  it  was  that  the  commander  who 
enjoined  it  was  determined,  like  Ajax,  that,  if  perish  he  must, 
he  would  perish  in  the  face  of  day,  I  do  not  know ;  but  cer 
tain  it  is  that  such  a  decree  went  forth,  and  was  religiously 
complied  with.  This  I  can  affirm  from  the  circumstance  of 
having  resided  in  Market  Street  at  the  time.  The  sage  pre 
caution,  however,  proved  superfluous,  although,  with  respect 
merely  to  the  nearness  of  the  redoubted  invaders,  there  was 
color  for  it.  It  was  soon  ascertained  that  they  had  reached 
Germantown  ;  and  a  deputation  of  the  least  obnoxious  citi 
zens,  with  the  olive-branch,  was  sent  out  to  meet  them.  After 
a  parley  of  some  days,  an  armistice  was  agreed  upon,  and 
peace  at  length  so  effectually  restored,  that  the  formidable 
stragglers  who  had  excited  so  much  terror  were  permitted, 
as  friends,  to  enter  the  city. 

Party  spirit,  at  this  time,  ran  very  high ;  and  the  Paxton 
men  were  not  without  a  number  of  clamorous  advocates,  who 
entirely  justified  them  on  the  score  of  their  sufferings  from 
the  savages,  who,  during  the  war,  had  made  incursions  upon 
them,  and  murdered  their  kindred  and  friends.  It  was  even 
alleged  that  the  pretended  friendly  Indians  had  been  treach 
erous,  having  always  maintained  an  understanding  with  the 
hostile  ones,  and  frequently  conducted  them  into  our  settle 
ments.  But  this  rested  on  mere  suspicion,  without  a  shadow 
of  proof  that  ever  I  heard  of.  It  was  enough,  however,  to 
throw  it  out  to  obtain  partisans  to  the  opinion ;  and  whether 
the  Paxton  men  were  "  more  sinned  against  than  sinning  " 
was  a  question  which  was  agitated  with  so  much  ardor  and 
acrimony,  that  even  the  schoolboys  became  warmly  engaged 
in  the  contest.  For  my  own  part,  though  of  the  religious 
sect  which  had  been  long  warring  with  the  Quakers,  I  was 
entirely  on  the  side  of  humanity  and  public  duty  (or  in  this, 


OGLE  AND  FRIEND.  211 

do  I  beg  the  question  ?),  and  perfectly  recollect  my  indigna 
tion  at  the  sentiments  of  one  of  the  ushers  who  was  on  the 
opposite  side.  His  name  was  Davis,  and  he  was  really  a 
kind,  good-natured  man;  yet,  from  the  dominion  of  his  reli 
gious  or  political  prejudices,  he  had  been  led  to  apologize  for, 
if  not  to  approve  of,  an  outrage  which  was  a  disgrace  to  a 
civilized  people.  He  had  been  among  the  riflemen  on  their 
coming  into  the  city,  and  talking  with  them  upon  the  subject 
of  the  Lancaster  massacre,  and  particularly  of  the  killing 
of  Will  Sock,  the  most  distinguished  of  the  victims,  related, 
with  an  air  of  approbation,  this  rhodomontade  of  the  real  or 
pretended  murderer.  "  I,"  said  he,  "  am  the  man  who  killed 
Will  Sock:  this  is  the  arm  that  stabbed  him  to  the  heart; 
and  I  glory  in  it."  Notwithstanding  the  fine  coloring  of  Mr. 
Davis,  young  as  I  was,  I  am  happy  in  being  able  to  say  that 
I  felt  a  just  contempt  for  the  inglorious  boaster,  who  appeared 
to  me  in  the  light  of  a  cowardly  ruffian,  instead  of  a  hero. 
There  was  much  political  scribbling  on  this  occasion ;  and, 
among  the  pamphleteers  of  the  day,  Dr.  Franklin  drew  his 
pen  in  behalf  of  the  Indians,  giving  a  very  affecting  narrative 
of  the  transaction  at  Lancaster,  which,  no  doubt,  had  its 
effect  in  regulating  public  opinion,  and  thereby  putting  a 
stop  to  the  farther  violence  that  was  meditated. 

OGLE  AND  FRIEND. 

But  it  was  not  alone  by  hostile  alarms  that  the  good  people 
of  Philadelphia  were  annoyed.  Their  tranquillity  had  been 
likewise  disturbed  by  the  uncitizenlike  conduct  of  a  pair  of 
British  officers,  who,  for  want  of  something  better  to  do,  had 
plunged  themselves  into  an  excess  of  intemperance,  and,  in 
the  plenitude  of  wine  and  hilarity,  paraded  the  streets  at  all 
hours, — 

A  la  clartd  de  cieux  dans  1'ombre  de  la  nuit, 

to  the  no  small  terror  of  the  sober  and  the  timid.  The  firm 
of  this  duumvirate  was  Ogle  and  Friend,  names  always  coupled 
together,  like  those  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  or  of  Pylades  and 


2 1  2  PENNS  YL  VA  NIA. 

Orestes  ;  but  the  cement  which  connected  them  was  scarcely 
so  pure  as  that  which  had  united  those  heroes  of  antiquity.  It 
could  hardly  be  called  friendship,  but  was  rather  a  confederacy 
in  debauchery  and  riot,  exemplified  in  a  never-ending  round 
of  frolic  and  fun.  It  was  related  of  Ogle,  that,  upon  hiring  a 
servant,  he  had  stipulated  with  him  that  he  should  never  get 
drunk  but  when  his  master  was  sober.  But  the  fellow  some 
time  after  requested  his  discharge,  giving  for  his  reason,  that 
he  had  in  truth  no  dislike  to  a  social  glass  himself  ;  but  it  had 
so  happened,  that  the  terms  of  the  agreement  had  absolutely 
cut  him  off  from  any  chance  of  ever  indulging  his  propensity. 
Many  are  the  pranks  I  have  heard  ascribed,  either  conjointly 
or  separately,  to  this  par  nobile  fratrum.  That  of  Ogle's 
first  appearance  in  Philadelphia  has  been  thus  related  to 
me  by  Mr.  Will  Richards  the  apothecary,  who,  it  is  well 
known,  was,  from  his  size  and  manner,  as  fine  a  figure  for 
Falstaff  as  the  imagination  can  conceive.  "  One  afternoon," 
said  he,  "  an  officer  in  full  regimentals,  booted  and  spurred, 
with  a  whip  in  his  hand,  spattered  with  mud  from  top  to  toe, 
and  reeling  under  the  effects  of  an  overdose  of  liquor,  made 
his  entrance  into  the  coffee-house,  in  a  box  of  which  I  was 
sitting,  perusing  a  newspaper.  He  was  probably  under  the 
impression  that  every  man  he  was  to  meet  would  be  a  Quaker, 
and  that  a  Quaker  was  no  other  than  a  licensed  Simon  Pure 
for  his  amusement ;  for  no  sooner  had  he  entered,  than  throw 
ing  his  arms  about  the  neck  of  Mr.  Joshua  Fisher  with  the 
exclamation  of,  "  Ah,  my  dear  Broadbrim,  give  me  a  kiss," 
he  began  to  slaver  him  most  lovingly.  As  Joshua  was  a  good 
deal  embarrassed  by  the  salutation,  and  wholly  unable  to 
parry  the  assault,  or  shake  off  the  fond  intruder,  I  interfered 
in  his  behalf,  and  effected  a  separation,  when  Ogle,  turning  to 
me,  cried  out,  "  Ha,  my  jolly  fellow  !  give  me  a  smack  of  your 
fat  chops,"  and  immediately  fell  to  hugging  and  kissing  me, 
as  he  had  done  Fisher.  But,  instead  of  the  coyness  he  had 
shown,  I  hugged  and  kissed  in  my  turn  as  hard  as  I  was  able, 
until  my  weight  at  length  brought  Ogle  to  the  floor,  and  my 
self  on  top  of  him.  Nevertheless,  I  kept  kissing  away,  until, 


OGLE  AND  FRIEND.  213 

nearly  mashed  and  suffocated,  he  exclaimed,  '  For  Heaven's 
sake  let  me  up,  let  me  up,  or  you  will  smother  me  !  '  Having 
sufficiently  tormented  him,  and  avenged  Joshua  Fisher,  I 
permitted  him  to  rise,  when  he  seemed  a  good  deal  sobered ; 
and  finding  that  I  was  neither  a  Quaker,  nor  wholly  ignorant 
of  the  world,  he  evinced  some  respect  for  me,  took  a  seat  with 
me  in  a  box,  and,  entering  into  conversation,  soon  discovered, 
that,  however  he  might  be  disguised  by  intoxication,  he  well 
knew  what  belonged  to  the  character  of  a  gentleman.  This," 
said  Richards,  "  was  the  commencement  of  an  acquaintance 
between  us  ;  and  Capt.  Ogle  sometimes  called  to  see  me, 
upon  which  occasions  he  always  behaved  with  the  utmost 
propriety  and  decorum." 

This  same  coffee-house,  the  only  one  indeed  in  the  city, 
was  also  the  scene  of  another  affray  by  Ogle  and  Friend  in 
conjunction.  I  know  not  what  particular  acts  of  mischief 
they  had  been  guilty  of  ;  but  they  were  very  drunk,  and  their 
conduct  so  extremely  disquieting  and  insulting  to  the  peacea 
ble  citizens  there  assembled,  that,  being  no  longer  able  to 
endure  it,  it  was  judged  expedient  to  commit  them  ;  and  Mr. 
Chew,  happening  to  be  there,  undertook,  in  virtue  probably  of 
his  office  of  recorder,  to  write  their  commitment.  But  Ogle, 
facetiously  jogging  his  elbow,  and  interrupting  him  with  a 
repetition  of  the  pitiful  interjection  of  "  A/i,  now,  Mr.  Chewf" 
he  was  driven  from  his  gravity,  and  obliged  to  throw  away  the 

pen.      It  was  then   taken  up  by  Alderman  M n   with    a 

determination  to  go  through  with  the  business,  when  the 
culprits  reeling  round  him,  and  Ogle  in  particular,  hanging 
over  his  shoulder,  and  reading  after  him  as  he  wrote,  at  length 
with  irresistible  effect  hit  upon  an  unfortunate  oversight  of 
the  alderman.  "  Ay,"  says  he,  "  my  father  was  a  justice  of 
peace  too ;  but  he  did  not  spell  that  word  as  you  do.  I 
remember  perfectly  well,  that,  instead  of  an  S,  he  always  used 
to  spell  CIRCUMSTANCE  with  a  C."  This  sarcastic  thrust  at 
the  scribe  entirely  turned  the  tide  in  favor  of  the  rioters  ; 
and,  the  company  being  disarmed  of  their  resentment,  the 
alderman  had  no  disposition  to  provoke  further  criticism  by 
going  on  with  the  mittimus. 


2 14  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

The  irregularities  of  these  gay  rakes  were  not  more  eccen 
tric  than  diversified ;  and,  the  more  extravagant  they  could 
render  them,  the  better.  At  one  time  they  would  drive  full 
tilt  through  the  streets  in  a  chair ;  and  upon  one  of  these 
occasions,  on  approaching  a  boom  which  had  been  thrown 
across  the  street,  in  a  part  that  was  undergoing  the  operation 
of  paving,  they  lashed  forward  their  steed,  and,  sousing  against 
the  spar  with  great  violence,  they  were  consequently  hurled 
from  their  seats,  like  Don  Quixote  in  his  temerarious  assault 
of  the  windmills.  At  another  time,  at  Dr.  Orme's,  the  apothe 
cary,  where  Ogle  lodged,  they,  in  emulation  of  the  same  mad 
hero  at  the  puppet-show,  laid  about  them  with  their  canes 
upon  the  defenceless  bottles  and  phials,  at  the  same  time 
assaulting  a  diminutive  Maryland  parson,  whom,  in  their  frolic, 
they  kicked  from  the  street-door  to  the  kitchen.  He  was  a 
fellow-lodger  of  Ogle's  ;  and,  to  make  him  some  amends  for 
the  roughness  of  this  usage,  they  shortly  after  took  him  drunk 
to  the  dancing-assembly,  where,  through  the  instrumentality 
of  this  unworthy  son  of  the  church,  they  contrived  to  excite  a 
notable  hubbub.  Though  they  had  escaped,  as  already  men 
tioned,  at  the  coffee-house,  yet  their  repeated  malefeasances 
had  brought  them  within  the  notice  of  the  civil  authority,  and 
they  had  more  than  once  been  in  the  clutches  of  the  mayor  of 
the  city.  This  was  Mr.  S ,  a  small  man  of  a  squat,  bandy 
legged  figure ;  and  hence,  by  way  of  being  revenged  on  him, 
they  bribed  a  negro,  with  a  precisely  similar  pair  of  legs,  to 
carry  him  a  billet,  which  imported,  that,  as  the  bearer  had 
in  vain  searched  the  town  for  a  pair  of  hose  that  might  fit 
him,  he  now  applied  to  his  Honor  to  be  informed  where  he 
purchased  HIS  stockings. 

SWIMMING  AND  SKATING. 

The  exercises  of  swimming  and  skating  were  so  much 
within  the  reach  of  the  boys  of  Philadelphia,  that  it  would 
have  been  surprising,  had  they  neglected  them,  or  even  had 
they  not  excelled  in  them.  Both  Delaware  and  Schuylkill 
present  the  most  convenient  and  delightful  shores  for  the 


SWIMMING  AND  SKATING.  21$ 

former,  whilst  the  heat  and  the  length  of  the  summers  invite 
to  the  luxury  of  bathing ;  and  the  same  rivers  seldom  fail  in 
winter  to  offer  the  means  of  enjoying  the  latter  ;  and,  when 
they  do,  the  ponds  always  afford  them.  Since  the  art  of 
swimming  has  been  in  some  degree  dignified  by  Dr.  Frank 
lin's  having  been  a  teacher  of  it,  and  having  made  it  the  subject 
of  a  dissertation,  I  may,  perhaps,  be  warranted  in  bringing 
forward  my  remark.  When  in  practice,  I  never  felt  myself 
spent  with  it ;  and  though  I  never  undertook  to  swim  farther 
than  across  Schuylkill  at  or  near  the  middle  ferry,  where  the 
bridge  now  stands,  it  appeared  to  me  that  I  could  have  con 
tinued  the  exercise  for  hours,  and  consequently  have  swum 
some  miles.  To  recover  breath,  I  only  found  it  necessary  to 
turn  upon  my  back,  in  which  position,  with  my  arms  across 
my  body,  or  pressed  to  my  sides  (since  moving  them,  as  many 
do,  answers  no  other  purpose  than  to  retard  and  fatigue  the 
swimmer),  my  lungs  had  free  play,  and  I  felt  myself  as  per 
fectly  at  ease  as  if  reclined  on  a  sofa.  In  short,  no  man  can 
be  an  able  swimmer  who  only  swims  with  his  face  downward. 
The  pressure  of  the  water  on  the  breast  is  an  impediment  to 
respiration  in  that  attitude,  which,  for  that  reason,  cannot  be 
long  continued  :  whereas  the  only  inconvenience  in  the  supine 
posture  is,  that  the  head  sinks  so  low,  that  the  ears  are  liable 
to  receive  water,  —  a  consequence  which  might  be  prevented 
by  stopping  them  with  wool  or  cotton,  or  covering  them  with 
a  bathing- cap. 

With  respect  to  skating,  though  the  Philadelphians  have 
never  reduced  it  to  rules,  like  the  Londoners,  nor  connected  it 
with  their  business,  like  Dutchmen,  I  will  yet  hazard  the  opin 
ion,  that  they  were  the  best  and  most  elegant  skaters  in  the 
world.  I  have  seen  New-England  skaters,  Old-England 
skaters,  and  Holland  skaters  ;  but  the  best  of  them  could  but 
"make  the  judicious  grieve."  I  was  once  slightly  acquainted 
with  a  worthy  gentleman,  the  quondam  member  of  a  skating- 
club  in  London  ;  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  performed 
very  well  for  an  Englishman.  His  High  Dutch,  or,  as  he 
better  termed  it,  his  outer-edge  skating,  might,  for  aught  I 


2 1 6  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

know,  have  been  exactly  conformable  to  the  statutes  of  this 
institution.  To  these  he  would  often  appeal ;  and  I  recollect 
the  principal  one  was,  that  each  stroke  should  describe  an 
exact  semicircle.  Nevertheless,  his  style  was  what  we  should 
deem  a  very  bad  one.  An  utter  stranger  to  the  beauty  of 
bringing  forward  the  suspended  foot  towards  the  middle  of  the 
stroke,  and  boldly  advancing  it  before  the  other  at  the  conclu 
sion  of  it,  thus  to  preserve  throughout  his  course  a  continuity 
of  movement,  to  rise  like  an  ascending  wave  to  its  acme, 
then  gracefully,  like  a  descending  one,  to  glide  into  the  suc 
ceeding  stroke  without  effort  either  real  or  apparent,  —  every 
change  of  foot  with  this  gentleman  seemed  a  beginning  of 
motion,  and  required  a  most  unseemly  jerk  of  the  body,  and 
unequivocal  evidence  of  the  want  of  that  power  which  de 
pends  on  a  just  balance,  and  should  never  be  lost ;  which  car 
ries  the  skater  forward  with  energy  without  exertion,  and  is  as 
essential  to  his  swift  and  graceful  career  as  is  a  good  head  of 
water  to  the  velocity  of  a  mill-wheel.  Those  who  have  seen 
good  skating  will  comprehend  what  I  mean  ;  still  better  those 
who  are  adepts  themselves  :  but  excellence  in  the  art  can 
never  be  gained  by  geometrical  rules.  The  two  reputed  best 
skaters  of  my  day  were  Gen.  Cadwallader,  and  Massey  the 
biscuit-baker;  but  I  could  name  many  others,  both  of  the 
academy  and  Quaker  school,  who  were  in  no  degree  inferior  to 
them  ;  whose  action  and  attitudes  were  equally  graceful,  and, 
like  theirs,  no  less  worthy  of  the  chisel  than  those  which,  in 
other  exercises,  have  been  selected  to  display  the  skill  of  the 
eminent  sculptors  of  antiquity.  I  here  speak,  be  it  observed, 
of  what  the  Philadelphians  were,  not  what  they  are,  since  I 
am  unacquainted  with  the  present  state  of  the  art ;  and  from 
my  lately  meeting  with  young  men,  who,  though  bred  in  the 
city,  had  not  learned  to  swim,  I  infer  the  probability  that 
skating  may  be  equally  on  the  decline. 


THE  SLA  TE-R 0  OF  HO  USE.  2 1  / 


THE  SLATE-ROOF  HOUSE. 

The  Abbe  Raynal,1  when  speaking  of  Philadelphia,  in  his 
"Philosophical  History  of  the  East  and  West  Indies,"  observes 
that  the  houses  are  covered  with  slate,  —  a  material  amply 
supplied  from  quarries  in  the  neighborhood.  But,  unfortu 
nately  for  the  source  from  which  the  abbd  derived  his  infor 
mation,  there  were  no  such  quarries  near  the  city  that  ever  I 
heard  of,  and  certainly  but  a  single  house  in  it  with  this  kind 
of  roof,  which,  from  that  circumstance,  was  distinguished  by 
the  name  of  The  Slate  House.  It  stood  in  Second  Street,  at 
the  corner  of  Norris's  Alley,  and  was  a  singular  old-fashioned 
structure,  laid  out  in  the  style  of  a  fortification,  with  abun 
dance  of  angles,  both  salient  and  re-entering.  Its  two  wings 
projected  to  the  street  in  the  manner  cf  bastions,  to  which 
the  main  building,  retreating  from  sixteen  to  eighteen  feet, 
served  for  a  curtain.  Within,  it  was  cut  up  into  a  number 
of  apartments,  and  on  that  account  was  exceedingly  well 
adapted  to  the  purpose  of  a  lodging-house,  to  which  use  it 
had  been  long  appropriated.  An  additional  convenience  was 
a  spacious  yard  on  the  back  of  it,  extending  half-way  to 

1  This  celebrated  person  was  born  in  1712,  educated  among  the  Jesuits,  and 
had  even  become  a  member  of  their  order,  but  was  expelled  for  denying  the 
supreme  authority  of  the  church.  He  afterwards  associated  with  Voltaire,  D'Alem- 
bert,  and  Diderot,  and  was  by  them  employed  to  furnish  the  theological  articles  for 
the  encyclopaedia.  In  this,  however,  he  received  the  assistance  cf  the  Abbe  Yvon, 
to  whom  he  did  not  give  above  a  sixth  of  what  he  received  ;  which  being  after 
wards  discovered,  he  was  obliged  to  pay  Yvon  the  balance.  His  most  celebrated 
work  is  his  "  Political  and  Philosophical  History  of  the  European  Settlements  in 
the  East  and  West  Indies,"  which  has  been  translated  into  all  the  languages  of 
Europe,  and  much  admired.  This  work  was  followed,  in  1780,  by  another,  entitled 
"The  Revolution  of  America,"  in  which  the  abbe"  pleads  the  cause  of  the  Ameri 
cans  with  zeal.  The  chief  trait  in  Raynal' s  character  was  his  love  of  liberty  ;  but, 
when  he  saw  the  length  to  which  the  French  revolutionists  were  proceeding,  he 
made  one  effort  to  stop  them  in  their  career.  In  May,  1791,  he  addressed  a  letter  to 
the  Constituent  National  Assembly,  in  which,  after  complimenting  them  upon  the 
great  things  they  had  done,  he  cautioned  them  against  the  dangers  of  going  farther. 
He  lived  not  only  to  see  his  forebodings  of  public  calamity  realized,  but  to  suffer 
his  share  of  it.  After  being  stripped  of  all  his  property,  which  was  considerable, 
by  the  robbers  of  the  Revolution,  he  died  in  poverty,  March,  1796,  in  the  eighty- 
fourth  year  of  his  age.  —  Land.  Ency. 


2 1 8  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

Front  Street,  enclosed  by  a  high  wall,  and  ornamented  with  a 
double  row  of  venerable,  lofty  pines,  which  afforded  a  very 
agreeable  rus  in  urbe,  or  rural  scene  in  the  heart  of  the  city. 
The  lady  who  had  resided  here,  and  given  some  celebrity  to 
the  stand  by  the  style  of  her  accommodations,  either  dying,  or 
declining  business,  my  mother  was  persuaded  by  her  friends 
to  become  her  successor,  and,  accordingly,  obtained  a  lease 
of  the  premises,  and  took  possession  of  them,  to  the  best  of 
my  recollection,  in  the  year  1764  or  1765.!  While  in  this  resi 
dence,  and  in  a  still  more  commodious  one  in  the  upper  part 
of  Front  Street,  to  which  she  some  years  afterwards  removed, 
she  had  the  honor,  if  so  it  might  be  called,  of  entertaining 
strangers  of  the  first  rank  who  visited  the  city.  Those  who 
have  seen  better  days,  but  have  been  compelled  by  hard 
necessity  to  submit  to  a  way  of  life,  which  to  a  feeling  mind, 
whoever  may  be  the  guests,  is  sufficiently  humiliating,  are 
much  indebted  to  Mr.  Gibbon  for  the  handsome  manner  in 

1  The  slate-roof  house  is  still  standing  [in  1846],  a  creditable  monument  to  the 
forbearance  of  its  lady-owner,  in  the  midst  of  the  general  war  which  for  years  has 
been  steadily  waged  against  every  relic  of  the  olden-time.  How  much  longer  it 
will  be  suffered  to  remain,  it  were  vain  to  conjecture.  Its  origin,  its  uses,  and  the 
historical  characters  who  from  time  to  time  have  dwelt  within  its  walls,  should 
create  a  feeling  of  interest  for  its  preservation  on  the  part  cf  Philadelphians,  and 
prompt  the  adoption  of  immediate  measures  for  that  patriotic  purpose.  In  this 
age  of  "Constitutional  scruples,"  the  city  councils  might  not  feel  at  liberty  to 
appropriate  the  sum  necessary  for  its  purchase  and  restoration  ;  but  the  citizens 
themselves,  by  limiting  the  sum  to  a  trifle,  might  readily  fill  a  subscription  for  a 
few  thousand  dollars,  and,  by  placing  it  under  the  guardianship  of  the  city,  insure 
for  it  the  necessary  care.  [It  has  since  been  taken  down.] 

We  are  informed  by  the  zealous  chronicler,  Watson,  that  this  house  was  erected 
for  Samuel  Carpenter,  whom  he  eulogizes  for  his  early  public  spirit,  and  that  it  was 
occupied  by  William  Penn  on  his  second  visit,  in  the  year  1700.  One  month  after 
Penn's  arrival,  John  Penn,  called  the  ''American,"  was  born  in  this  house.  In 
1703  the  property  was  purchased  by  William  Trent,  the  founder  of  Trenton,  the 
capital  of  New  Jersey,  for  eight  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  Watson  quotes  a  letter 
from  James  Logan  in  1700  to  Penn  as  follows :  "  William  Trent,  designing  for  Eng 
land,  is  about  selling  his  house  (that  he  bought  of  Samuel  Carpenter),  which  thou 
lived  in,  with  the  improvement  of  a  beautiful  garden.  I  wish  it  could  be  made 
thine,  as  nothing  in  this  town  is  so  well  fitting  a  governor.  His  price  is  nine 
hundred  pounds  of  our  money,  which  it  is  hard  thou  canst  not  spare." 

He  could  not  spare  it,  however ;  and  it  became  the  property  of  a  Mr.  Norris,  in 
whose  family  it  still  continues.—  J.  S.  Littell. 


THE   GUESTS  OF  THE  SLATE-ROOF  HOUSE.  2IQ 

which  he  speaks  of  the  hostess  of  a  boarding-house  at  Lau 
sanne.  With  the  delicacy  of  a  gentleman,  and  the  discern 
ment  of  a  man  of  the  world,  the  historian  dares  to  recognize 
that  worth  and  refinement  are  not  confined  to  opulence  or 
station  ;  and  that  although,  in  the  keeper  of  a  house  of  public 
entertainment,  these  qualities  are  not  much  to  be  looked  for, 
yet,  when  they  do  occur,  the  paying  for  the  comforts  and 
attentions  we  receive  does  not  exempt  us  from  the  courtesy 
of  an  apparent  equality  and  obligation.  An  equally  liberal 
way  of  thinking  is  adopted  by  Mr.  Cumberland,  who  tells  us 
in  his  Memoirs,  that  the  British  coffee-house  was  kept  by  a 
Mrs.  Anderson,  a  person  of  great  respectability.  If,  then,  an 
education  and  situation  in  early  life,  which  enabled  my  mother 
to  maintain  an  intercourse  in  the  best  families  in  the  city, — 
pretentions  in  no  degree  impaired  by  her  matrimonial  connec 
tion,  or  an  industrious,  irreproachable  conduct  in  her  succeed 
ing  years  of  widowhood,  —  can  give  a  claim  to  respect,  I  have 
a  right  to  say  with  Mr.  Cumberland,  that  the  principal  lodging- 
house  in  Philadelphia  was  kept  by  a  person  of  great  respecta 
bility. 

THE  GUESTS  OF  THE  SLATE-ROOF  HOUSE. 

A  biographical  sketch  of  the  various  personages  who  in 
the  course  of  eight  or  nine  years  became  inmates  of  this 
house,  might,  from  the  hand  of  a  good  delineator,  be  both 
curious  and  amusing.  Among  these  were  persons  of  distinc 
tion,  and  some  of  no  distinction ;  many  real  gentlemen,  and 
some,  no  doubt,  who  were  merely  pretenders  to  the  appella 
tion  ;  some  attended  by  servants  in  gay  liveries  ;  some,  with 
servants  in  plain  coats  ;  and  some  with  no  servants  at  all.  It 
was  rarely  without  officers  of  the  British  army.  It  was,  at 
different  times,  nearly  filled  by  those  of  the  Forty-second  or 
Highland  Regiment,  as,  also,  by  those  of  the  Royal  Irish. 
Besides  these,  it  sometimes  accommodated  officers  of  other 
armies,  and  other  uniforms.  Of  this  description  was  the 
Baron  de  Kalb,  who  visited  this  country  probably  about  the 
year  1768  or  1769,  and  who  fell  a  major-general  in  the  army 
of  the  United  States  at  the  battle  of  Camden.  Though  a 


2  2O  PENNS  YL  VA  AVA. 

German  by  birth,  he  had  belonged  to  the  French  service, 
and  had  returned  to  France  after  the  visit  just  mentioned. 
During  our  Revolutionary  contest,  he  came  to  tender  us  his 
services,  and  returned  no  more.  The  steady  and  composed 
demeanor  of  the  baron  bespoke  the  soldier  and  philosopher,  — 
the  man  who  had  calmly  estimated  life  and  death,  and  who, 
though  not  prodigal  of  the  one,  had  no  unmanly  dread  of  the 
other.  He  was  not  indeed  a  young  man;  and  his  behavior 
at  the  time  of  his  death,  as  I  have  heard  it  described  by 
Mons.  Dubuisson,  his  aide-de-camp,  was  exactly  conformable 
to  what  might  have  been  supposed  from  his  character.1 

1  "The  representation  of  the  baron,"  says  the  author  in  a  MS.  note  "as  an 
enthusiast  for  liberty,  whose  sacred  cause  he  crossed  the  Atlantic  to  espouse,  is 
one  of  the  '  lame  and  impotent  conclusions '  of  our  republican  fanatics.  He  cared 
just  as  much  for  our  liberty,  probably,  as  did  the  other  French  subjects  who  assisted 
us  under  the  standard  of  the  Count  de  Rochambeau.  He,  no  doubt,  thought  the 
occasion  favorable  for  crippling  the  power  of  Britain,  and  of  avenging  the  loss  of 
Canada.  At  the  same  time,  he  was  politic  enough  to  take  the  tone  of  the  people  he 
was  acting  with,  and  might,  therefore,  have  talked  of  liberty  with  the  rest ;  but  he 
would  have  deemed  it  quite  sufficient  to  his  fame  to  be  considered  as  at  once  faith 
ful  to  France  and  her  allies,  and  of  having  acquitted  himself  as  a  brave  and  accom 
plished  soldier  ;  and  this  was  all  we  had  to  require  of  him." 

The  baron  was  born  in  Germany,  about  the  year  1717.  When  young,  he  en 
tered  into  the  service  of  France,  in  which  he  continued  for  forty-two  years,  and 
obtained  the  rank  of  brigadier-general.  In  1757,  during  the  war  between  England 
and  France,  he  was  sent  by  the  French  Government  to  the  American  colonies,  in 
order  to  learn  the  points  in  which  they  were  most  vulnerable,  and  how  far  the  seeds 
of  discontent  might  be  sown  in  them  towards  the  mother-country.  He  was  seized, 
while  in  the  performance  of  his  commission,  as  a  suspected  person,  but  escaped 
detection.  He  then  went  to  Canada,  where  he  remained  until  its  conquest  by  the 
British,  after  which  he  returned  to  France.  In  1777,  during  the  war  of  the  Revo 
lution,  he  came  a  second  time  to  the  United  States,  and  offered  his  services  to 
Congress.  They  were  accepted ;  and  he  was  soon  after  made  a  major-general.  At 
first  he  was  placed  in  the  northern  army ;  but  when  the  danger  which  threatened 
Charleston  from  the  formidable  expedition  under  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  in  1778,  ren 
dered  it  necessary  to  re-enforce  the  American  troops  in  the  south,  a  detachment  was 
sent  to  them,  consisting  of  the  Maryland  and  Delaware  lines,  which  were  put  under 
his  command.  Before  he  could  arrive,  however,  at  the  scene  of  action,  Gen.  Lin 
coln  had  been  made  prisoner,  and  the  direction  of  the  %vhole  southern  army  devolved 
upon  the  baron,  until  the  appointment  of  Gen.  Gates.  On  the  isth  of  August, 
Gates  was  defeated  near  Camden,  by  Lord  Rawdon  ;  and,  in  the  battle,  De  Kalb, 
who  commanded  the  right  wing,  fell,  covered  with  wounds,  while  gallantly  fighting 
on  foot.  A  tomb  was  erected  to  his  memory,  by  order  of  Congress,  in  the  cemetery 
of  Camden.  —  Ency.  Amer.—J.  S.  Littell. 


LADY  MOORE  AND  LADY  O'BRIEN.          221 

Another  of  our  foreign  guests  was  one  Badourin,  who  wore 
a  white  cockade,  and  gave  himself  out  for  a  general  in  the 
Austrian  service  ;  but,  whether  general  or  not,  he  one  night, 
very  unexpectedly,  left  his  quarters,  making  a  masterly  retreat, 
with  the  loss  of  no  other  baggage  than  that  of  an  old  trunk, 
which,  when  opened,  was  found  to  contain  only  a  few  old 
Latin  and  German  books.  Among  the  former  was  a  folio, 
bound  in  parchment,  which  I  have  now  before  me  :  it  is  a 
ponderous  tract  of  the  mystical  Robert  Fludd,  alias  de  Fluc- 
tibus,  printed  at  Oppenheim  in  the  year  1618,  and  in  part 
dedicated  to  the  Duke  de  Guise,  whom  the  author  informs  us 
he  had  instructed  in  the  art  of  war.  It  is  to  this  writer,  prob 
ably,  that  Butler  thus  alludes  in  his  "  Hudibras  :  "  — 

"  He,  Anthroposophus  and  Flmtd 
And  Jacob  Behman,  understood." 

From  this  work  of  Mr.  Fludd,  which,  among  a  fund  of  other 
important  matter,  treats  of  astrology  and  divination,  it  is  not 
improbable  that  its  quondam  possessor,  Mr.  Badourin,  might 
have  been  a  mountebank  conjurer,  instead  of  a  general. 

LADY  MOORE  AND  LADY  O'BRIEN. 

Among  those  of  rank  from  Great  Britain,  with  whose  resi 
dence  we  were  honored,  I  recollect  Lady  Moore  and  her 
daughter,  a  sprightly  miss,  not  far  advanced  in  her  teens,  and 
who,  having  apparently  no  dislike  to  be  seen,  had  more  than 
once  attracted  my  attention  ; *  for  I  was  just  touching  that 
age  when  such  objects  begin  to  be  interesting,  and  excite 

1  Sir  Henry  Moore,  the  last  British  governor  of  New  York  that  I  remember 
(says  Mrs.  Grant),  came  up  this  summer  to  see  Albany,  and  the  ornament  of 
Albany,  Aunt  Schuyler.  He  brought  Lady  Moore  and  his  daughter  with  him. 
This  is  the  same  family  alluded  to  in  the  text ;  but  I  was  not  aware  (says  the  author 
in  a  MS.  note)  that  Sir  Henry  was  governor  of  New  York.  Mrs.  Grant  and  myself, 
probably  not  differing  much  in  age,  appear  nearly  at  the  same  time  to  have  been 
looking  back  on  the  scenes  of  our  youth,  and  to  have  brought  to  remembrance 
not  only  some  of  the  characters,  but  to  have  coincided  in  our  remarks  on  several 
subjects.  The  Miss  Moore  alluded  to,  I  remember  to  have  heard,  was,  some  years 
after  the  time  of  this  our  joint  recognition  of  her,  considered  as  an  elegant  woman  in 
England,  where,  it  was  said,  she  led  the  fashions.  —  J.  S.  LittelL 


222  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

feelings  which  disdain  the  invidious  barriers  with  which  the 
pride  of  condition  would  surround  itself.  Not  that  the  young 
lady  was  stately.  My  vanity  rather  hinted  she  was  conde 
scendingly  courteous ;  and  I  had  no  doubt  read  of  women  of 
quality  falling  in  love  with  their  inferiors.  Nevertheless,  the 
extent  of  my  presumption  was  a  look  or  a  bow  as  she  now 
and  then  tripped  along  through  the  entry.  Another  was  Lady 
Susan  O'Brien,  not  more  distinguished  by  her  title  than  by  her 
husband,  who  accompanied  her,  and  had  figured  as  a  come 
dian  on  the  London  stage,  in  the  time  of  Garrick,  Mossop, 
and  Barry.  Although  Churchill  charges  him  with  being  an 
imitator  of  Woodward,1  he  yet  admits  him  to  be  a  man  of 
parts ;  and  he  has  been  said  to  have  surpassed  all  his  con 
temporaries  in  the  character  of  the  fine  gentleman,  in  his 
easy  manner  of  treading  the  stage,  and  particularly  of  drawing 


1  WOODWARD,  endowed  with  various  powers  of  face, 
Great  master  in  the  science  of  grimace, 
From  Ireland  ventures,  favorite  of  the  town, 
Lured  by  the  pleasing  prospect  of  renown. 
A  squeaking  Harlequin  made  up  of  whim, 
He  twists,  he  twines,  he  tortures  every  limb, 
Plays  to  the  eye  with  a  mere  monkey's  art, 
And  leaves  to  sense  the  conquest  of  the  heart. 
We  laugh,  indeed;  but,  on  reflection's  birth, 
We  wonder  at  ourselves,  and  curse  our  mirth. 
His  walk  of  parts  he  fatally  misplaced, 
And  inclination  fondly  took  for  taste : 
Hence  hath  the  town  so  often  seen  displayed 
Beau  in  burlesque,  high  life  in  masquerade. 
But  when  bold  wits,  not  such  as  patch  up  plays, 
Cold  and  correct  in  these  insipid  days, 
Some  comic  character  strong-featured,  urge 
To  probability's  extremest  verge, 
Where  modest  Judgment  her  decree  suspends, 
And  for  a  time  nor  censures,  nor  commends, 
Where  critics  can't  determine  on  the  spot 
Whether  it  is  in  Nature  found  or  not, 
There  WOODWARD  safely  shall  his  powers  exert, 
Nor  fail  of  favor  where  he  shows  desert : 
Hence  he  in  Bobadil  such  praises  bore, 
Such  worthy  praises,  Kitely  scarce  had  more. 

Churchill's  Rosciad. 


WILLIAM  DRAPER.  22$ 

the  sword,  to  which  action  he  communicated  a  swiftness  and 
a  grace  which  Garrick  imitated,  but  could  not  equal.1  O'Brien 
is  presented  to  my  recollection  as  a  man  of  the  middle  height, 
with  a  symmetrical  form,  rather  light  than  athletic.  Employed 
by  the  father  to  instruct  Lady  Susan  in  elocution,  he  taught 
her,  it  seems,  that  it  was  no  sin  to  love ;  for  she  became  his 
wife,  and,  as  I  have  seen  it  mentioned  in  the  "  Theatrical 
Mirror,"  obtained  for  him,  through  the  interest  of  her  family, 
a  post  in  America.  But  what  this  post  was,  or  where  it 
located  him,  I  never  heard. 

SIR  WILLIAM  DRAPER. 

A  third  person  of  celebrity  and  title  was  Sir  William 
Draper,2  who  made  a  tour  to  this  country  a  short  time  after 

1  Shadows  behind  of  FOOTE  and  WOODWARD  came  : 

WILLKINSON  this,  O'BRIEN  was  that  name. 

Strange  to  relate,  but  wonderfully  true, 

That  even  shadows  have  their  shadows  too ! 

With  not  a  single  comic  power  endued, 

The  first  a  mere  mere  mimic's  mimic  stood. 

The  last,  by  Nature  formed  to  please,  who  shows 

In  Johnson's  Stephen  which  way  Genius  grows  ; 

Self  quite  put  off,  affects  with  too  much  art 

To  put  on  WOODWARD  in  each  mangled  part, 

Adopt  his  shrug,  his  wink,  his  stare,  nay,  more, 

His  voice  and  croaks  ;  for  Woodward  croaked  before. 

When  the  dull  copier  simple  grace  neglects, 

And  rests  his  imitation  in  defects, 

We  readily  forgive  ;  but  such  vile  arts 

Are  double  guilt  in  men  of  real  parts. 

ChurcJiilPs  Rosciad. 

2  Vide  correspondence  in  the  Letters  of  Junius.  In  his  celebrated  contro 
versy  with  the  "great  unknown,"  Sir  William  displayed  a  degree  of  ability  and 
skill  that  challenged  the  admiration  even  of  his  relentless  adversary.  He  attained 
the  rank  of  general  in  the  British  army.  He  was  born  at  Bristol  (England),  where 
his  father  held  the  post  cf  collector  of  the  customs.  He  was  thoroughly  educated 
at  Eton  and  at  Cambridge.  In  1763  he  was  "  conqueror  of  Manilla."  He  ar 
rived  at  Charleston,  S.C.,  in  January,  1770,  and  during  the  summer  of  that  year 
visited  Maryland,  where  he  was  received  with  much  hospitality.  From  Maryland 
he  passed  into  New  York,  and,  while  there,  was  married  to  Miss  De  Lancey,  who 
died  in  1778,  leaving  him  a  daughter.  In  1779  he  was  appointed  lieutenant- 
governor  of  Minorca.  He  died  at  Bath,  January,  1787. 

WRAXALL  says  he  was  "a  man  hardly  better  known  to  posterity  by  his  capture 


224  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

his  newspaper  encounter  with  Junius.  It  has  even  been  sug 
gested  that  this  very  incident  sent  the  knight  on  his  travels. 
Whether  or  not  it  had  so  important  a  consequence,  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  Sir  William  caught  a  Tartar  in  Junius  ;  and 
that,  when  he  commenced  his  attack,  he  had  evidently  un 
derrated  his  adversary. 

During  his  stay  in  Philadelphia,  no  one  was  so  assiduous 
in  his  attentions  to  him  as  Mr.  Richardson,  better  known  at 
that  time  by  the  name  of  Frank  Richardson,  then  from  Eng 
land,  on  a  visit  to  his  friends.  This  gentleman  was  one  of 
the  most  singular  and  successful  of  American  adventurers. 
The  son  of  one  of  our  plainest  Quakers,  he  gave  early  indica 
tions  of  that  cast  of  character  which  has  raised  him  to  his 
present  station,  —  that  of  a  colonel  in  the  British  Guards.  At 
a  time  when  such  attainments  formed  no  part  of  education  in 
Pennsylvania,  he  sedulously  employed  himself  in  acquiring 
skill  in  the  use  of  the  small-sword  and  the  pistol,  as  if  to 
shine  as  a  duellist  had  been  the  first  object  of  his  ambition. 
Either  from  a  contempt  for  the  dull  pursuits  of  the  "home- 
keeping  youth  "  of  his  day,  or  from  the  singularity  of  his  pro 
pensities  repelling  association,  he  was  solitary,  and  rarely  with 
companions.  Fair  and  delicate  to  effeminacy,  he  paid  great 
attention  to  his  person,  which  he  had  the  courage  to  invest  in 
scarlet,  in  defiance  of  the  society  to  which  he  belonged,  in 
whose  mind's  eye,  perhaps  as  to  that  of  the  blind  man  of 


of  Manilla  than  by  his  correspondence  with  JUNIUS.  He  was  endowed  with  tal 
ents,  which,  whether  exerted  in  the  field  or  in  the  closet,  entitled  him  to  great  con 
sideration.  His  vanity,  which  led  him  to  call  his  house  at  Clifton,  near  Bristol, 
'  Manilla  Hall,'  and  there  to  erect  a  cenotaph  to  his  fellow-soldiers  who  fell 
before  that  city  during  the  siege,  exposed  him  to  invidious  comments.  .  .  . 
JUNIUS' s  obligations  to  his  officious  friendship  for  the  Marquis  of  Granby  was 
indelible  ;  for  however  admirably  written  may  be  his  letter  of  the  2ist  of  January, 
1769,  which  opened  the  series  of  those  celebrated  compositions,  it  was  Draper's 
answer,  with  his  signature  annexed  to  it,  that  drew  all  eyes  towards  the  two  literary 
combatants.  Great  as  were  JUNIUS'S  talents,  yet,  if  he  had  been  left  to  exhale  his 
resentment  without  notice  or  reply,  he  might  have  found  it  difficult  to  concentre  on 
himself  the  attention  of  all  England.  But,  the  instant  that  Sir  William  avowedly 
entered  the  lists  as  Lord  Granby' s  champion,  a  new  interest  was  awakened  in  the 
public  mind."  —J.  S.  Littcll. 


WILLIAM  DRAPER.  22$ 

Locke,  this  color,  from  their  marked  aversion  to  it,  resembles 
the  sound  of  a  trumpet ;  and  no  less  in  defiance  of  the  plain 
manners  of  a  city,  in  which,  except  on  the  back  of  a  sol 
dier,  a  red  coat  was  a  phenomenon,  and  always  indicated  a 
Creole,  a  Carolinian,  or  a  dancing-master.  With  these  quali 
fications,  and  these  alone  perhaps,  Mr.  Richardson,  at  an 
early  age,  shipped  himself  for  England,  where  soon,  having 
the  good-fortune  to  establish  a  reputation  for  courage  by 
drawing  his  sword  in  behalf  of  a  young  man  of  rank,  in  a 
broil  at  the  theatre,  he  was  received  into  the  best  company, 
and  thence  laid  the  foundation  of  his  preferment.  Such,  at 
least,  was  the  generally  received  account  of  his  rise.  But, 
whether  accurate  or  not,  his  intimate  footing  with  Sir  William 
is  an  evidence  of  the  style  of  his  company  whilst  abroad,  as 
well  as  of  the  propriety  of  his  conclusion,  that  his  native 
land  was  not  his  sphere.1 

As  the  story  went,  on  Mr.  Richardson's  first  going  to  Eng 
land,  he  happened  to  be  in  the  same  lodgings  with  Foote  the 
comedian,  with  whom  he  became  intimate.  One  day,  upon 
his  coming  out  of  his  chamber,  "Richardson,"  says  Foote 
to  him,  "a  person  has  just  been  asking  for  you,  who  ex 
pressed  a  strong  desire  to  see  you,  and  pretended  to  be  an 
old  Philadelphia  acquaintance.  But  I  knew  better ;  for  he  was 

a  d d  ill-looking  fellow,  and  I  have  no  doubt  the  rascal 

was  a  bailiff:  so  I  told  him  you  were  not  at  home."  But 
here  either  Foote's  sagacity  had  been  at  fault,  or  he  had 
been  playing  off  a  stroke  of  his  humor,  the  visitor  having 

really  been  no  other  than  Mr. ,  a  respectable  merchant 

of  Philadelphia,  though  not  a  figure  the  most  debonair,  to  be 
sure. 

1  He  is  the  same  Richardson  alluded  to  in  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  from 
Gen.  Washington  to  Mr.  Reed,  dated  i4th  January,  1776:  "Mr.  Sayre  has  been 
committed  to  the  Tower  upon  the  information  of  a  certain  Lieutenant  or  Adjutant 
Richardson  (formerly  of  your  city),  for  treasonable  practices,  an  intention  of  seiz 
ing  his  Majesty,  and  possessing  himself  of  the  Tower,  it  is  said  in  '  The  Crisis.' 
But  he  is  admitted  to  bail  himself  in  five  hundred  pounds,  and  two  sureties  in  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  each."  —  Sjarkfs  Writings  of  Washington,  vol.  iii.  p. 
242.  —  7.  S.  Littell. 

'5 


226  PENNSYLVANIA. 

From  Philadelphia,  Sir  William  passed  on  to  New  York, 
where,  if  I  mistake  not,  he  married.  During  his  residence  in 
that  city,  he  frequently  amused  himself  with  a  game  of  rackets, 
which  he  played  with  some  address  ;  and  he  set  no  small 
value  on  the  talent.  There  was  a  mechanic  in  the  place,  the 
hero  of  the  tennis  court,  who  was  so  astonishingly  superior 
to  other  men,  that  there  were  few  whom  he  could  not  beat 
with  one  hand  attached  to  the  handle  of  a  wheelbarrow.  Sir 
William  wished  to  play  with  him,  and  was  gratified;  the  New- 
Yorker  having  urbanity  enough  to  cede  the  splendid  stranger 
some  advantages,  and,  even  in  conquering,  to  put  on  the 
appearance  of  doing  it  with  difficulty.  Yet,  apart,  he  declared 
that  he  could  have  done  the  same  with  the  incumbrance  of 
the  wheelbarrow.  These  are  hearsay  facts  :  they  come,  how 
ever,  from  persons  of  credit,  in  the  way  of  being  acquainted 
with  them. 

MAJOR  ETHERINGTON. 

Major  George  Etherington  of  the  Royal  Americans  was 
an  occasional  inmate  of  our  house,  from  its  first  establish 
ment  on  the  large  scale,  until  the  time  of  its  being  laid  down, 
about  the  year  1774.  He  seemed  to  be  always  employed  in 
the  recruiting  service,  in  the  performance  of  which  he  had  a 
snug,  economical  method  of  his  own.  He  generally  dispensed 
with  the  noisy  ceremony  of  a  recruiting  coterie j  for  having, 
as  it  was  said,  and  I  believe  truly,  passed  through  the  prin 
cipal  grades  in  its  composition,  namely,  those  of  drummer 
and  sergeant,  he  was  a  perfect  master  of  the  inveigling  arts 
which  are  practised  on  the  occasion,  and  could  fulfil,  at  a 
pinch,  all  the  duties  himself.  The  major's  forte  was  a  knowl 
edge  of  mankind,  of  low  life  especially ;  and  he  seldom 
scented  a  subject  that  he  did  not,  in  the  end,  make  his  prey. 
He  knew  his  man,  and  could  immediately  discover  a  fish  that 
would  bite  :  hence  he  wasted  no  time  in  angling  in  wrong 
waters.  His  superior  height,  expansive  frame,  and  muscular 
limbs,  gave  him  a  commanding  air  among  the  vulgar ;  and, 
while  enforcing  his  suit  with  all  the  flippancy  of  halbert  elo 
cution,  he  familiarly  held  his  booby  by  the  button :  his  small, 


MAJOR  ETHERINGTON.  22/ 

black,  piercing  eyes,  which  derived  additional  animation  from 
the  intervention  of  a  sarcastic,  upturned  nose,  penetrated  to 
the  fellow's  soul,  and  gave  him  distinct  intelligence  of  what 
was  passing  there.  In  fact,  I  have  never  seen  a  man  with  a 
cast  of  countenance  so  extremely  subtile  and  investigating. 
I  have  myself  more  than  once  undergone  its  scrutiny  ;  for 
he  took  a  very  friendly  interest  in  my  welfare,  evinced  by  an 
occasional  superintendence  of  my  education,  in  so  far,  at 
least,  as  respects  the  exterior  accomplishments.  Above  all 
things,  he  enjoined  upon  me  the  cultivation  of  the  French 
language,  of  which  he  had  himself  acquired  a  smattering 
from  a  temporary  residence  in  Canada ;  and  he  gave  me  a 
pretty  sharp  lecture  upon  a  resolution  I  had  absurdly  taken 
up,  not  to  learn  dancing,  from  an  idea  of  its  being  an  effemi 
nate  and  unmanly  recreation.  He  combated  my  folly  with 
arguments  of  which  I  have  since  felt  the  full  force,  but 
which,  as  they  turned  upon  interests  I  was  then  too  young  to 
form  conceptions  of,  produced  neither  conviction  nor  effect. 
Fortunately  for  me,  I  had  to  deal  with  a  man  who  was  not 
thus  to  be  baffled.  He  very  properly  assumed  the  rights  of 
mature  age  and  experience  ;  and  accordingly,  one  day,  on  my 
return  from  school,  he  accosted  me  with,  "  Come  here,  young 
man,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,"  and,  with  a  mysterious 
air,  conducted  me  to  his  chamber.  Here  I  found  myself 
entrapped.  Godwin,  the  assistant  of  Tioli,  the  dancing- 
master,  was  prepared  to  give  me  a  lesson.  Etherington  in 
troduced  me  to  him  as  the  pupil  he  had  been  speaking  of, 
and,  saying  he  would  leave  us  to  ourselves,  he  politely  retired. 
The  arrangement  with  Tioli  was,  that  I  should  be  attended  in 
the  major's  room  until  I  was  sufficently  drilled  for  the  public 
school ;  and,  the  ice  thus  broken,  I  went  on,  and  instead  of 
standing  in  a  corner,  like  a  goose  on  one  leg  (the  major's  com 
parison)  "  while  music  softens,  and  while  dancing  fires,"  I 
became  qualified  for  the  enjoyment  of  female  society  in  one 
of  its  most  captivating  forms. 

Major  Etherington  had  a  brother  in  the  rank  of  a  captain, 
so  like  himself  as  to  realize  the  story  of  the  two  Socias,  and 


228  PENNSYLVANIA. 

to  remove  half  the  improbability  of  the  plot  of  Shakspeare's 
"  Comedy  of  Errors."  Any  one  at  a  first  sight  might  have 
mistaken  the  one  for  the  other,  at  least  I  did,  for  a  moment ; 
but,  on  a  close  inspection,  it  would  be  discovered  that  the  cap 
tain  was  more  scant  in  his  proportions,  as  well  as  several 
years  younger,  than  his  brother.  Tom,  for  so  the  captain  was 
familiarly  called  by  the  major,  had  taken  his  turn  to  recruit  in 
Philadelphia,  while  his  superior  was  employed  elsewhere. 
From  a  comparatively  weaker  discernment  of  human  charac 
ter,  he  had  enlisted  a  lad,  and  converted  him  into  his  waiting- 
man,  whom  George,  on  a  junction  which  soon  after  took 
place,  pronounced  to  be  a  fool,  and  wholly  unfit  for  a  soldier. 
This  the  captain  denied  strenuously,  and  the  question  became 
the  frequent  topic  of  good-humored  altercation  between  them, 
until  an  incident  occurred  which  gave  the  major  an  unequivo 
cal  triumph.  One  morning  very  early,  the  brothers  lodging 
in  the  same  apartment,  this  recruit,  and,  for  the  first  time, 
common  servant  of  the  two,  softly  approached  the  bed  of  the 
major,  and,  gently  tapping  him  on  the  shoulder  to  awaken 
him,  very  sapiently  inquired  if  he  might  clean  his  shoes. 
George,  with  infinite  presence  of  mind,  replied  that  it  was 
not  material ;  but  "  go,"  says  he,  "  and  ask  my  brother  Tom 
if  you  may  clean  his."  The  poor  fellow  did  as  he  was  bid, 
and  probably  as  he  would  have  done  if  he  had  not  been 
bidden  ;  and  Tom's  slumbers  became  victims,  also,  to  the 
same  momentous  investigation.  The  major  took  care  to 
relate  the  circumstance  at  the  breakfast-table,  and,  of  course, 
obtained  a  unanimous  suffrage  to  his  opinion,  that  the  cap 
tain's  recruit  was  not  exceeding  wise. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  KEGS. 

[Francis  Hopkinson's  amusing  "  Ballad  of  the  Battle  of 
the  Kegs  "  had  its  origin  in  an  incident  thus  related  in  a  letter 
from  Philadelphia,  published  in  "  The  New  Jersey  Gazette," 
Jan.  21,  1778.] 

Philadelphia  has  been  entertained  with  a  most  astonishing 
instance  of  the  activity,  bravery,  and  military  skill  of  the 


THE  BATTLE   OF  THE  KEGS.  22Q 

royal  navy  of  Great  Britain.  The  affair  is  somewhat  particu 
lar,  and  deserves  notice.  Some  time  last  week,  two  boys 
observed  a  keg  of  a  singular  construction  floating  in  the  river 
opposite  to  the  city.  They  got  into  a  small  boat,  and,  attempt 
ing  to  take  up  the  keg,  it  burst  with  a  great  explosion,  and 
blew  up  the  unfortunate  boys.  Yesterday,  several  kegs  of  a 
like  construction  made  their  appearance.  An  alarm  was  im 
mediately  spread  through  the  city.  Various  reports  prevailed, 
filling  the  city  and  the  royal  troops  with  consternation.  Some 
reported  that  the  kegs  were  filled  with  armed  rebels,  who  were 
to  issue  forth  in  the  dead  of  night,  as  the  Grecians  did  of  old 
from  their  wooden  horse  at  the  siege  of  Troy,  and  take  the 
city  by  surprise ;  asserting  that  they  had  seen  the  points  of 
their  bayonets  through  the  bungholes  of  the  kegs.  Others 
said  they  were  charged  with  the  most  inveterate  combustibles, 
to  be  kindled  by  secret  machinery,  and,  setting  the  whole 
Delaware  in  flames,  were  to  consume  all  the  shipping  in  the 
harbor ;  whilst  others  asserted  that  they  were  constructed  by 
art  magic,  would  of  themselves  ascend  the  wharves  in  the 
night  time,  and  roll  all  flaming  through  the  streets  of  the  city, 
destroying  every  thing  in  their  way.  Be  this  as  it  may,  cer 
tain  it  is  that  the  shipping  in  the  harbor,  and  all  the  wharves 
in  the  city,  were  fully  manned.  The  battle  began  ;  and  it  was 
surprising  to  behold  the  incessant  blaze  that  was  kept  up 
against  the  enemy,  the  kegs.  Both  officers  and  men  exhib 
ited  the  most  unparalleled  skill  and  bravery  on  the  occasion  ; 
whilst  the  citizens  stood  gazing  as  solemn  witnesses  of  their 
prowess.  From  "The  Roebuck"  and  other  ships  of  war, 
whole  broadsides  were  poured  into  the  Delaware.  In  short, 
not  a  wandering  ship,  stick,  or  drift-log,  but  felt  the  vigor  of 
the  British  arms.  The  action  began  about  sunrise,  and  would 
have  been  completed  with  great  success  by  noon,  had  not  an 
old  market-woman,  coming  down  the  river  with  provisions, 
unfortunately  let  a  small  keg  of  butter  fall  overboard,  which 
(as  it  was  then  ebb)  floated  down  to  the  scene  of  action.  At 
sight  of  this  unexpected  re-enforcement  of  the  enemy,  the 
battle  was  renewed  with  fresh  fury,  and  the  firing  was  incessant 


230  PENNSYLVANIA. 

till  the  evening  closed  the  affair.  The  kegs  were  either  totally 
demolished,  or  obliged  to  fly,  as  none  of  them  have  shown 
their  heads  since.  It  is  said  his  Excellency  Lord  Howe  has 
despatched  a  swift-sailing  packet  with  an  account  of  this 
victory  to  the  court  of  London.  In  a  word,  Monday,  the  5th 
of  January,  1778,  must  ever  be  distinguished  in  history  for 
the  memorable  BATTLE  OF  THE  KEGS.1 

HABITS  OF  SOCIETY  IN  PHILADELPHIA. 

[That  entertaining  ehijfonnier,  Watson,  in  his  "  Annals  of 
Philadelphia,"  has  gathered,  from  conversation  with  a  great 
many  octogenarians,  a  multitude  of  incidents  and  sayings 
respecting  life  in  Philadelphia,  and  in  other  parts  of  the  State, 
a  hundred  years  ago  ;  and  we  glean  from  his  work  some  of 
the  characteristic  facts.] 

Mrs.  Susan  N ,  who  lived  to  be  eighty  years  of  age,  told 

me  it  was  the  custom  of  her  early  days  for  the  young  part  of 
the  family,  and  especially  of  the  female  part,  to  dress  up  neatly 
towards  the  close  of  the  day,  and  sit  in  the  street-porch.  It 
was  customary  to  go  from  porch  to  porch  in  neighborhoods, 
and  sit  and  converse.  Young  gentlemen,  in  passing,  used  to 
affect  to  say,  that,  while  they  admired  the  charms  of  the  fair 


1  A  writer  in  the  Pennsylvania  Ledger  of  Feb.  n  says,  in  reference  to  this  event, 
"  The  town  of  Philadelphia  not  being  as  fully  acquainted  with  the  subject  of  the 
letter  taken  from  a  Burlington  paper  as  the  ingenious  author  would  have  his  read 
ers  believe  them  to  be,  it  may  be  necessary  to  relate  to  them  the  fact.  At  the  time 
it  happened,  it  was  so  trifling  as  not  to  be  thought  worthy  of  notice  in  this  paper ; 
and  we  do  not  doubt  but  our  readers  will  allow  this  letter-writer  full  credit  for  the 
fertility  of  his  invention.  The  case  was,  that,  on  the  sth  of  January  last,  a  barrel 
of  an  odd  appearance  came  floating  down  the  Delaware,  opposite  the  town,  and 
attracted  the  attention  of  some  boys,  who  went  in  pursuit  of  it,  and  had  scarcely 
got  possession  of  it,  when  it  blew  up,  and  either  killed  or  injured  one  or  more  of 
them.  So  far  the  matter  was  serious  ;  and  the  fellow  who  invented  the  mischief 
may  quit  his  conscience  of  the  murder  or  injury  done  the  lads  as  well  as  he  can. 
Some  days  after,  a  few  others  of  much  the  same  appearance,  and  some  in  the  form 
of  buoys,  came  floating  in  like  manner ;  and  a  few  guns  were,  we  believe,  fired  at 
them  from  some  of  the  transports  lying  along  the  wharves.  Other  than  this,  no 
notice  was  taken  of  them,  except,  indeed,  by  our  author,  whose  imagination,  per 
haps  as  fertile  as  his  invention,  realized  to  himself  in  the  frenzy  of  his  enthusiasm 
the  matters  he  has  set  forth." 


HABITS  OF  SOCIETY  IN  PHILADELPHIA. 

who  thus  occupied  them,  they  found  it  a  severe  ordeal,  as  they 
thought  they  might  become  the  subject  of  remark.  This, 
however,  was  a  mere  banter.  Those  days  were  really  very 
agreeable  and  sociable.  To  be  so  easily  gratified  with  a  sight 
of  the  whole  city  population  must  have  been  peculiarly  grate 
ful  to  every  travelling  stranger. 

Our  girls  in  the  daytime,  as  told  me  by  T.  B.,  used  to  attend 
to  the  work  of  the  family,  and  in  the  evening  paraded  in  their 
porch  at  the  door.  Some  of  them,  however,  even  then  read 
novels,  and  walked  without  business  abroad.  Those  who  had 
not  housework  employed  themselves  in  their  accomplish 
ments,  such  as  making  shell-work,  cornucopias,  working  of 
pocketbooks  with  a  close,  strong-stitched  needlework. 

The  wedding-entertainments  of  olden  times  were  very  ex 
pensive  and  harassing  to  the  wedded.  The  house  of  the  par 
ent  would  be  filled  with  company  to  dine  :  the  same  company 
would  stay  to  tea  and  to  supper.  For  two  days,  punch  was 
dealt  out  in  profusion.  The  gentlemen  saw  the  groom  on  the 
first  floor,  and  then  ascended  to  the  second  floor,  where  they 
saw  the  bride  :  there  every  gentleman,  even  to  one  hundred 
in  a  day,  kissed  her.  Even  the  plain  Friends  submitted  to 
these  things.  I  have  known  rich  families  which  had  one  hun 
dred  and  twenty  persons  to  dine,  —  the  same  who  had  signed 
their  certificate  of  marriage  at  the  Monthly  Meeting :  these 
also  partook  of  tea  and  supper.  As  they  formally  passed  the 
Meeting  twice,  the  same  entertainment  was  repeated.  Two 
days  the  male  friends  would  call  and  take  punch  ;  and  all  would 
kiss  the  bride.  Besides  this,  the  married  pair  for  two  weeks 
saw  large  tea-parties  at  their  home,  having  in  attendance  every 
night  the  groomsmen  and  bridesmaids.  To  avoid  expense  and 
trouble,  Friends  have  since  made  it  sufficient  to  pass  but  one 
Meeting.  When  these  marriage-entertainments  were  made,  it 
was  expected  also  that  punch,  cakes,  and  meats  should  be 
sent  out  very  generally  in  the  neighborhood,  even  to  those 
who  were  not  visitors  in  the  family. 


232  PEATNS  YL  VANIA. 

AFFECTATION  OF  FRENCH  MANNERS. 

About  the  year  1793  to  '94,  there  was  an  extravagant  and 
impolitic  affection  for  France,  and  hostility  to  every  thing 
British,  in  our  country  generally.  It  required  all  the  prudence 
of  Washington  and  his  cabinet  to  stem  the  torrent  of  passion 
which  flowed  in  favor  of  France  to  the  prejudice  of  our  neu 
trality.  Now  the  event  is  passed,  we  may  thus  soberly  speak 
of  its  character.  This  remark  is  made  for  the  sake  of  intro 
ducing  the  fact,  that  the  patriotic  mania  was  so  high,  that  it 
caught  the  feelings  of  the  boys  of  Philadelphia.  I  remember 
with  what  joy  we  ran  to  the  wharves,  at  the  report  of  cannon, 
to  see  the  arrivals  of  the  Frenchmen's  prizes,  we  were  so 
pleased  to  see  the  British  union  down.  When  we  met  French 
mariners  or  officers  in  the  streets,  we  would  cry,  "Vive  la  Rd- 
publique ! "  Although  most  of  us  understood  no  French,  we 
had  caught  many  national  airs  ;  and  the  streets,  by  day  and 
night,  resounded  with  the  songs  of  boys,  such  as  these : 
"  Aliens,  enfans  de  la  patrie,  le  jour  de  gloire  est  arrive* ! " 
&c.  "  Dansons  le  carmagnole,  vive  le  sang !  vive  le  sang !  " 
&c.  "A  ^'ira,  c/ira,"  &c.  Several  verses  of  each  of  these 
and  others  were  thus  sung.  All  of  us,  too,  put  on  the  national 
cockade.  Some,  whose  parents  had  more  discretion,  resisted 
this  boyish  parade  of  patriotism  for  a  doubtful  revolution ;  and 
then  they  wore  their  cockade  on  the  inside  of  their  hat.  I 
remember  several  boyish  processions  ;  and  on  one  occasion 
the  girls,  dressed  in  white  and  in  French  tricolorecl  ribbons, 
formed  a  procsssion  too.  There  was  a  great  liberty  pole, 
with  a  red  cap  at  top,  erected  at  Adet's  or  Fauchet's  house 
[now  Girards  Square,  up  High  Street];  and  there  I  and  one 
hundred  others,  taking  hold  of  hands,  and  forming  a  ring 
round  the  same,  made  triumphant  leapings,  singing  the  national 
airs.  There  was  a  band  of  music  to  lead  the  airs.  I  remem 
ber  that  among  the  grave  and  elderly  men  who  gave  the 
impulse,  and  prompted  the  revellings,  was  a  burly,  gouty  old 
gentleman,  Blair  M'Clenahan,  Esq.  (famed  in  the  Democratic 
ranks  of  that  day) ;  and  with  him  and  the  white  misses  at  our 


DRESS.  233 

head,  we  marched  down  the  middle  of  the  dusty  street,  and 
when  arrived  opposite  to  Mr.  Hammond's  (the  British  minis 
ter's  house  ;  High,  above  Eighth  Street,  Hunter's  house,  I 
believe),  there  were  several  signs  of  disrespect  manifested  to 
his  house.  All  the  facts  of  that  day,  as  I  now  contemplate 
them  as  among  the  earliest  impressions  of  my  youth,  seem 
something  like  the  remembrance  of  a  splendid  dream.  I  hope 
never  to  see  such  an  enthusiasm  for  any  foreigners  again, 
however  merited.  It  was  a  time,  when,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
Philadelphia  boys  usurped  the  attributes  of  manhood,  and 
the  men,  who  should  have  chastened  us,  had  themselves 
become  very  puerile !  It  was  a  period  in  Philadelphia  when 
reason  and  sobriety  of  thought  had  lost  their  wonted  operation 
on  our  citizens.  They  were  fine  feelings  to  insure  the  suc 
cess  of  a  war  actually  begun,  but  bad  affections  for  any 
nation  whose  interests  lay  in  peace  and  neutrality.  Wash 
ington  bravely  submitted  to  become  unpopular  to  allay  and 
repress  this  dangerous  foreign  attachment. 

GENTLEMEN'S  DRESS. 

Mr.  B ,  a  gentleman  of  ninety  years  of  age,  has  given 

me  his  recollections  of  the  costumes  of  his  early  days  in 
Philadelphia,  to  this  effect ;  to  wit,  men  wore  three-square  or 
cocked  hats,  and  wigs,  coats  with  large  cuffs,  big  skirts,  lined 
and  stiffened  with  buckram.  None  ever  saw  a  crown  higher 
than  the  head.  The  coat  of  a  beau  had  three  or  four  large 
plaits  in  the  skirts,  wadding  almost  like  a  coverlet  to  keep 
them  smooth,  cuffs,  very  large,  up  to  the  elbows,  open  below, 
and  inclined  down,  with  lead  therein  :  the  capes  were  thin  and 
low,  so  as  readily  to  expose  the  close  plaited  neck-stock  of 
fine  linen  cambric,  and  the  large  silver  stock-buckle  on  the 
back  of  the  neck.  Shirts  with  hand  ruffles,  sleeves  finely 
plaited  ;  breeches  close  fitted,  with  silver,  stone,  or  paste  gem 
buckles  ;  shoes,  or  pumps,  with  silver  buckles  of  various  sizes 
and  patterns;  thread,  worsted,  and  silk  stockings.  The  poorer 
class  wore  sheep  and  buckskin  breeches  close  set  to  the  limbs. 
Gold  and  silver  sleeve-buttons,  set  with  stones  or  paste,  of 


234  PENNS  YL  VA  NIA . 

various  colors  and  kinds,  adorned  the  wrists  of  the  shirts  of 
all  classes.  The  very  boys  often  wore  wigs  ;  and  their  dresses 
in  general  were  similar  to  that  of  the  men.  The  odious  use 
of  wigs  was  never  disturbed  till  after  the  return  of  Braddock's 
broken  army.  They  appeared  in  Philadelphia,  wearing  only 
their  natural  hair,  —  a  mode  well  adapted  to  the  military,  and 
thence  adopted  by  our  citizens.  The  King  of  England,  too, 
about  this  time,  having  cast  off  his  wig,  malgre  the  will  of  the 
people  and  the  petitions  and  remonstrances  of  the  periwig- 
makers  of  London,  this  confirmed  the  change  of  fashion  here, 
and  completed  the  ruin  of  our  wig-makers.1  The  women 
wore  caps  (a  bare  head  was  never  seen),  stiff  stays,  hoops 
from  six  inches  to  two  feet  on  each  side,  so  that  a  full-dressed 
lady  entered  a  door  like  a  crab,  pointing  her  obtruding  flanks 
end  foremost,  high-heeled  shoes  of  black  stuff  with  white 
silk  or  thread  stockings  ;  and,  in  the  miry  times  of  winter,  they 
wore  clogs,  galoshes,  or  pattens. 

From  various  reminiscents  we  glean  that  laced  ruffles  de 
pending  over  the  hand  were  a  mark  of  indispensable  gentility. 
The  coat  and  breeches  were  generally  desirable  of  the  same 
material,  —  of  broadcloth  for  winter,  and  of  silk  camlet 
for  summer.  No  kind  of  cotton  fabrics  was  then  in  use  or 
known.  Hose  were,  therefore,  of  thread  or  silk  in  summer, 
and  of  fine  worsted  in  winter.  Shoes  were  square-toed,  and 
were  often  "  double  channelled."  To  these  succeeded  sharp 
toes  as  peaked  as  possible.  When  wigs  were  universally 
worn,  gray  wigs  were  powdered,  and  for  that  purpose  sent  in 
a  wooden  box  frequently  to  the  barber  to  be  dressed  on  his 
blockhead.  But  "  brown  wigs,"  so  called,  were  exempted  from 
the  white  disguise.  Coats  of  red  cloth,  even  by  boys,  were 
considerably  worn  ;  and  plush  breeches  and  plush  vests  of 
various  colors,  shining  and  slipping,  were  in  common  use. 
Everlasting,  made  of  worsted,  was  a  fabric  of  great  use  for 
breeches,  and  sometimes  for  vests.  The  vest  had  great 

1  The  use  of  wigs  must  have  been  peculiarly  an  English  fashion  here,  as  I 
find  Kalm,  in  1749,  speaks  of  the  French  gentlemen  then  as  wearing  their  own  hair 
in  Canada,  —  J.  F.  Watson. 


DRESS.  235 

depending  pocket-flaps  ;  and  the  breeches  were  very  short 
above  the  stride,  because  the  art  of  suspending  them  by  sus 
penders  was  unknown.  It  was  then  the  test  of  a  well-formed 
man,  that  he  could  by  his  natural  form  readily  keep  his 
breeches  above  his  hips,  and  his  stockings,  without  gartering, 
above  the  calf  of  the  leg.  With  the  cues  belonged  frizzled 
sidelocks,  and  toupees  formed  of  the  natural  hair  ;  or,  in  defect 
of  a  long  tie,  a  splice  was  added  to  it.  Such  was  the  general 
passion  for  the  longest  possible  whip  of  hair,  that  sailors  and 
boatmen,  to  make  it  grow,  used  to  tie  theirs  in  eel-skins  to 
aid  its  growth.  Nothing  like  surtouts  were  known  ;  but  they 
had  coating  or  cloth  great-coats,  or  blue  cloth  and  brown  cam 
let  cloaks,  with  green  baize  lining  to  the  latter.  In  the  time 
of  the  American  war,  many  of  the  American  officers  intro 
duced  the  use  of  Dutch  blankets  for  great-coats.  The  sailors 
in  the  olden  time  used  to  wear  hats  of  glazed  leather,  or  of 
woollen  thrumbs,  called  chapeaux,  closely  woven,  and  looking 
like  a  rough  nap  ;  and  their  "  small-clothes,"  as  we  would 
say  now,  were  immense  wide  petticoat-breeches,  wide  open  at 
the  knees,  and  no  longer.  About  eighty  years  ago,  our  work- 
ingmen  in  the  country  wore  the  same,  having  no  falling  flaps, 
but  slits  in  front :  they  were  so  full  and  free  in  girth,  that  they 
ordinarily  changed  the  rear  to  the  front  when  the  seat  became 
prematurely  worn  out.  In  sailors  and  common  people,  big 
silver  brooches  in  the  bosom  were  displayed,  and  long  quar 
tered  shoes,  with  extreme  big  buckles  on  the  extreme  front. 

Gentlemen  in  the  olden  time  used  to  carry  muffettees  in  win 
ter.  They  were,  in  effect,  little  woollen  muffs  of  various  col 
ors,  just  big  enough  to  admit  both  hands,  and  long  enough  to 
screen  the  wrists,  which  were  then  more  exposed  than  now  ; 
for  they  then  wore  short  sleeves  to  their  coats  purposely  to 
display  their  fine  linen  and  plaited  shirt-sleeves  with  their 
gold  buttons,  and  sometimes  laced  ruffles.  The  sleeve-cuffs 
were  very  wide,  and  hung  down  depressed  with  leads  in  them. 
In  the  summer-season,  men  very  often  wore  calico  morning- 
gowns  at  all  times  of  the  day,  and  abroad  in  the  streets.  A 
damask  banyan  was  much  the  same  thing  by  another  name. 


2  36  PENNS  YL  VAN1A. 

Poor  laboring-men  wore  ticklenburg  linen  for  shirts,  and 
striped  ticken  breeches  ;  they  wore  gray  corduroy  coats  in 
winter.  Men  and  boys  always  wore  leather  breeches. 
Leather  aprons  were  used  by  all  tradesmen  and  workmen. 

LADIES'  DRESS. 

Once  ladies  wore  "a  skimmer  hat,"  made  of  a  fabric  which 
shone  like  silver  tinsel :  it  was  of  a  very  small  flat  crown,  and 
big  brim,  not  unlike  the  late  Leghorn  flats.  Another  hat,  not 
unlike  it  in  shape,  was  made  of  woven  horse-hair,  wove  in 
flowers,  and  called  "  horse-hair  bonnets,"  —  an  article  which 
might  be  again  usefully  introduced  for  children's  wear  as  an 
enduring  hat  for  long  service.  I  have  seen  what  was  called  a 
bath  bonnet,  made  of  black  satin,  and  so  constructed  to  lie 
in  folds  that  it  could  be  set  upon  like  a  chapeau  bras, —  a  good 
article  now  for  travelling  ladies.  "  The  musk-melon  "  bonnet, 
used  before  the  Revolution,  had  numerous  whalebone  stiffen- 
ers  in  the  crown,  set  at  an  inch  apart,  in  parallel  lines,  and 
presenting  ridges  to  the  eye,  between  the  bones.  The  next 
bonnet  was  the  "whalebone  bonnet,"  having  only  the  bones 
in  the  front  as  stiffeners.  "  A  calash  bonnet "  was  always 
formed  of  green  silk.  It  was  worn  abroad,  covering  the  head ; 
but  when  in  rooms  it  could  fall  back  in  folds,  like  the  springs  of 
a  calash  or  gig-top  :  to  keep  it  up  over  the  head,  it  was  drawn 
up  by  a  cord  always  held  in  the  hands  of  the  wearer.  The 
"wagon  bonnet,"  always  of  black  silk,  was  an  article  exclu 
sively  in  use  among  the  Friends  ;  was  deemed  to  look,  on  the 
head,  not  unlike  the  top  of  the  Jersey  wagons,  and  having  a 
pendent  piece  of  like  silk  hanging  from  the  bonnet,  and  cover 
ing  the  shoulders.  The  only  straw  wear  was  that  called  the 
"  straw  beehive  bonnet,"  worn  generally  by  old  people. 

The  ladies  once  wore  "hollow-breasted  stays,"  which  were 
exploded  as  injurious  to  the  health.  Then  came  the  use  of 
straight  stays.  Even  little  girls  wore  such  stays.  At  one 
time  the  gowns  worn  had  no  fronts  :  the  design  was  to  dis 
play  a  finely-quilted  Marseilles,  silk,  or  satin  petticoat,  and  a 
bare  stomacher  on  the  waist.  In  other  dresses,  a  white  apron 


LADIES'  DRESS.  237 

was  the  mode.  All  wore  large  pockets  under  their  gowns. 
Among  the  caps  was  the  "queen's  nightcap,"  —  the  same 
always  worn  by  Lady  Washington.  The  "  cushion  head 
dress "  was  of  gauze  stiffened  out  in  cylindrical  form  with 
white  spiral  wire.  The  border  of  the  cap  was  called  the  bal 
cony. 

A  lady  of  my  acquaintance  thus  describes  the  recollections 
of  her  early  days  preceding  the  War  of  Independence  :  Dress 
was  discriminative  and  appropriate,  both  as  regarded  the  sea 
son,  and  the  character  of  the  wearer.  Ladies  never  wore  the 
same  dresses  at  work  and  on  visits.  They  sat  at  home,  or 
went  out  in  the  morning,  in  chintz :  brocades,  satins,  and 
mantuas,  were  reserved  for  evening  or  dinner  parties.  Robes, 
or  negligees,  as  they  were  called,  were  always  worn  in  full 
dress.  Muslins  were  not  worn  at  all.  Little  misses  at  a 
dancing-school  ball  (for  these  were  almost  the  only  fetes  that 
fell  to  their  share  in  the  days  of  discrimination)  were  dressed 
in  frocks  of  lawn  or  cambric.  Worsted  was  then  thought  dress 
enough  for  common  days. 

As  a  universal  fact,  it  may  be  remarked  that  no  other  color 
than  black  was  ever  made  for  ladies'  bonnets,  when  formed  of 
silk  or  satin.  Fancy  colors  were  unknown  ;  and  white  bonnets 
of  silk  fabric  had  never  been  seen.  The  first  innovation 
remembered  was  the  bringing-in  of  blue  bonnets.  The  time 
was,  when  the  plainest  women  among  the  Friends  (now  so 
averse  to  fancy  colors)  wore  their  colored  silk  aprons,  say  of 
green,  blue,  &c.  This  was  at  a  time  when  the  gay  wore  white 
aprons.  In  time,  white  aprons  were  disused  by  the  gentry ; 
and  then  the  Friends  left  off  their  colored  ones,  and  used  the 
white.  The  same  old  ladies  among  Friends  whom  we  can 
remember  as  wearers  of  the  white  aprons,  wore,  also,  large 
white  beaver  hats,  with  scarcely  the  sign  of  a  crown,  and 
which  were,  indeed,  confined  to  the  head  by  silk  cords  tied 
under  the  chin.  Eight  dollars  would  buy  such  a  hat  when 
beaver  fur  was  more  plentiful.  They  lasted  such  ladies  almost 
a  whole  life  of  wear.  They  showed  no  fur.  Very  decent 
women  went  abroad  and  to  churches  with  check  aprons.  I 


238  PENNSYLVANIA. 

have  seen  those  who  kept  their  coach  in  my  time,  to  bear 
them  to  church,  who  told  me  they  went  on  foot  with  a  check 
apron,  to  the  Arch-street  Presbyterian  meeting  in  their  youth. 
Then  all  hired  women  wore  short-gowns  and  petticoats  of 
domestic  fabric,  and  could  be  instantly  known  as  such  when 
ever  seen  abroad. 

WATCHES. 

In  the  old  time,  shagreen-cased  watches  of  turtle-shell  and 
pinchbeck  were  the  earliest  kind  seen  ;  but  watches  of  any 
kind  were  much  more  rare  then.  When  they  began  to  come 
into  use,  they  were  so  far  deemed  a  matter  of  pride  and  show, 
that  men  are  living  who  have  heard  public  friends  express 
their  concern  at  seeing  their  youth  in  the  show  of  watches  or 
watch-chains.  It  was  so  rare  to  find  watches  in  common  use, 
that  it  was  quite  an  annoyance  at  the  watchmakers  to  be  so 
repeatedly  called  on  by  street-passengers  for  the  hour  of  the 
day.  Mr.  Duniekl,  therefore,  first  set  up  an  outdoor  clock  to 
give  the  time  of  day  to  people  in  the  street.  Gold  chains 
would  have  been  a  wonder  then :  silver  and  steel  chains  and 
seals  were  the  mode,  and  regarded  good  enough.  The  best 
gentlemen  of  the  country  were  content  with  silver  watches, 
although  gold  ones  were  occasionally  used.  Gold  watches 
for  ladies  were  a  rare  occurrence,  and,  when  worn,  were  kept 
without  display  for  domestic  use. 

THE  FURNITURE  OF  A  HOUSE. 

Formerly  there  were  no  sideboards  ;  and,  when  they  were 
first  introduced  after  the  Revolution,  they  were  much  smaller, 
and  less  expensive,  than  now.  Formerly  they  had  couches  of 
worsted  damask,  and  only  in  very  affluent  families,  in  lieu  of 
what  we  now  call  sofas,  or  lounges.  Plain  people  used  settees 
and  settles :  the  latter  had  a  bed  concealed  in  the  seat,  and, 
by  folding  the  top  of  it  outwards  to  the  front,  it  exposed  the 
bed,  and  widened  the  place  for  the  bed  to  be  spread  upon  it. 
This,  homely  as  it  might  now  be  regarded,  was  a  common 
sitting-room  appendage,  and  was  a  proof  of  more  attention  to 
comfort  than  display.  It  had,  as  well  as  the  settee,  a  very 


THE  FURNITURE   OF  A   HOUSE.  239 

high  back  of  plain  boards;  and  the  whole  was  of  white  pine, 
generally  unpainted,  and  whitened  well  with  unsparing  scrub 
bing.  Such  was  in  the  poet's  eye,  when  pleading  for  his 
sofa,  — 

"  But  restless  was  the  seat ;  the  back  erect 
Distressed  the  weary  loins  that  felt  no  ease." 

They  were  a  very  common  article  in  very  good  houses,  and 
were  generally  the  proper  property  of  the  oldest  members  of 
the  family,  unless  occasionally  used  to  stretch  the  weary 
length  of  tired  boys.  They  were  placed  before  the  fireplaces 
in  the  winter  to  keep  the  back  guarded  from  wind  and  cold. 
Formerly  there  were  no  Windsor  chairs  ;  and  fancy  chairs  are 
still  more  modern.  Their  chairs  of  the  genteelest  kind  were 
of  mahogany  or  red  walnut  (once  a  great  substitute  for  ma 
hogany  in  all  kinds  of  furniture,  tables,  &c.),  or  else  they 
were  of  rush-bottoms,  and  made  of  maple  posts  and  slats, 
with  high  backs  and  perpendicular.1  Instead  of  japanned 
waiters,  as  now,  they  had  mahogany  tea  boards  and  round  tea- 
tables,  which,  being  turned  on  an  axle  underneath  the  centre, 
stood  upright,  like  an  expanded  fan  or  palm-leaf  in  the  corner. 
Another  corner  was  occupied  by  a  beaufet,  which  was  a  cor 
ner  closet  with  a  glass  door,  in  which  all  the  china  of  the 
family,  and  the  plate,  were  intended  to  be  displayed  for  orna 
ment,  as  well  as  use.  A  conspicuous  article  in  the  collection 
was  always  a  great  china  punch-bowl,  which  furnished  a  fre 
quent  and  grateful  beverage;  for  wine -drinking  was  then 
much  less  in  vogue.  China  teacups  and  saucers  were  about 
half  their  present  size  ;  and  china  teapots  and  coffeepots  with 
silver  nozzles  were  a  mark  of  superior  finery.  The  sham  of 
plated  ware  was  not  then  known ;  and  all  who  showed  a  silver 
service  had  the  massive  metal  too.  This  occurred  in  the 
wealthy  families  in  little  coffee  and  tea  pots ;  and  a  silver  tank 
ard  for  good  sugared  toddy  was  above  vulgar  entertainment. 
Where  we  now  use  earthenware,  they  then  used  delftware 

1  When  the  first  Windsor  chairs  were  introduced,  they  were  universally  green. 
—  ?.  F.  Watson. 


24  O  PENWS  YL  VANIA. 

imported  from  England ;  and,  instead  of  queen's-ware  (then 
unknown),  pewter  platters  and  porringers,  made  to  shine  along 
a  "  dresser,"  were  universal.  Some,  and  especially  the  coun 
try-people,  ate  their  meals  from  wooden  trenchers.  Gilded 
looking-glasses,  and  picture-frames  of  golden  glare,  were  un 
known  ;  and  both,  much  smaller  than  now,  were  used.  Small 
pictures  painted  on  glass,  with  black  mouldings  for  frames, 
with  a  scanty  touch  of  gold-leaf  in  the  corners,  were  the  adorn 
ment  of  a  parlor.  The  looking-glasses  in  two  plates,  if 
large,  had  either  glass  frames,  figured  with  flowers  engraved 
thereon,  or  were  of  scalloped  mahogany,  or  of  Dutch  wood 
scalloped,  painted  white  or  black,  with  here  and  there  some 
touches  of  gold.  Every  householder  in  that  day  deemed  it 
essential  to  his  convenience  and  comfort  to  have  an  ample 
chest  of  drawers  in  his  parlor  or  sitting-room,  in  which  the 
linen  and  clothes  of  the  family  were  always  of  ready  access. 
It  was  no  sin  to  rummage  them  before  company.  These 
drawers  were  sometimes  nearly  as  high  as  the  ceiling.  At 
other  times,  they  had  a  writing-desk  about  the  centre,  with  a 
falling  lid  to  write  upon  when  let  down.  A  great  high  clock- 
case,  reaching  to  the  ceiling,  occupied  another  corner ;  and  a 
fourth  corner  was  appropriated  to  the  chimney-place.  They 
then  had  no  carpets  on  their  floors,  and  no  paper  on  their 
walls.  The  silver-sand  on  the  floor  was  drawn  into  a  variety 
of  fanciful  figures  and  twirls  with  the  sweeping-brush ;  and 
much  skill  and  pride  was  displayed  therein  in  the  devices  and 
arrangement.  They  had  then  no  argand  or  other  lamps  in 
parlors  ; 1  but  dipped  candles,  in  brass  or  copper  candlesticks, 
were  usually  good  enough  for  common  use  ;  and  those  who 
occasionally  used  mould  candles  made  them  at  home,  in  little 
tin  frames,  casting  four  to  six  candles  in  each.  A  glass 
lantern  with  square  sides  furnished  the  entry -lights  in  the 
houses  of  the  affluent.  Bedsteads  then  were  made,  if  fine, 
of  carved  mahogany,  of  slender  dimensions ;  but  for  com- 


1  The  first  which  ever  came  to  this  country  is  in  my  possession,  originally  a  pres 
ent  from  Thomas  Jefferson  to  Charles  Thomson.  —  y.  F.  Watson. 


AN  OLD-FASHIONED  APPRENTICE.          24! 

mon  purposes,  or  for  the  families  of  good  tradesmen,  they 
were  of  poplar,  and  always  painted  green.  It  was  a  matter  of 
universal  concern  to  have  them  low  enough  to  answer  the 
purpose  of  repose  for  sick  or  dying  persons.  —  a  provision  so 
necessary  for  such  possible  events,  now  so  little  regarded  by 
the  modern  practice  of  ascending  to  a  bed  by  steps,  like 
clambering  up  to  a  hay-mow. 

TEA  AND  CHOCOLATE. 

In  the  olden  time  it  was  the  fashion,  in  some  parts  of  the 
country,  to  serve  a  dish  of  chocolate,  which  had  just  then  come 
into  use,  in  a  curious  style.  The  height  of  the  fashion  was 
to  put  into  the  kettle  of  chocolate  several  links  of  sausages, 
and,  after  boiling  all  together,  to  serve  the  guests  with  a  bowl 
of  chocolate  and  a  sausage,  which  was  cut  up,  and  then  the 
mess  eaten  with  a  spoon.  When  tea  was  first  introduced  into 
Salem,  the  usual  mode  of  serving  it  up  was  to  boil  the  tea  in 
an  iron  kettle,  and,  after  straining  the  liquor  off,  the  boiled 
herb  was  put  into  a  dish,  and  buttered.  This  was  eaten,  while 
the  liquid  decoction  was  drank  without  sugar  or  milk,  to  wash 
down  the  greens.  But  this  is  nothing  to  be  compared  to  the 
exquisite  breakfast  which  was  in  common  vogue  among  the 
people  of  Salem  some  eighty  or  ninety  years  since.  The  sour 
household-brewed  beer  was  put  on  in  the  great  brass  kettle, 
and  simmered  over  the  fire,  with  the  crusts  of  the  brown-bread 
crumbed  in,  and  occasionally  dulcified  with  a  little  molasses. 
This  was  served  up  hot  to  the  family,  under  the  name  of 
"  Whistle-belly-vengeance."  .  Surely  the  modern  mode  of  tak 
ing  tea  in  French  porcelain  gilt  cups,  with  patent  loaf-sugar 
and  cream,  stirred  with  a  silver  spoon,  is  more  delicate,  refined, 
and  elegant. 

AN  OLD-FASHIONED  APPRENTICE. 

Only  figure  to  yourselves,  readers,  a  young  man  of  eighteen 
years  of  age,  of  good  proportions,  handsome  face,  and  bloom 
ing  with  beauty,  dressed  in  a  pair  of  deerskin  breeches  coming 
hardly  down  to  his  knees,  which,  before  they  could  be  allowed 
16 


242  PENNSYLVANIA. 

to  come  into  the  presence  of  the  ladies  at  meeting  on  the  sab 
bath,  were  regularly  blacked  up  on  the  preceding  Saturday  night, 
at  the  dye-kettle  of  Deacon  Holman,  in  order  to  give  them  a 
clean  and  fresh  appearance  for  the  Sunday.  Imagine  his  legs 
covered  up  to  the  knees  with  a  pair  of  blue  woollen-yarn  stock 
ings,  his  feet  incased  with  a  thick  and  substantial  pair  of 
shoes,  well  greased,  and  ornamented  with  a  pair  of  small  brass 
buckles,  a  present  from  his  master  for  his  good  behavior. 
Imagine  that  he  wore  a  speckled  shirt  all  the  week,  and  a  white 
one  on  Sunday,  which  was  always  carefully  taken  off  as  soon 
as  he  returned  from  meeting,  folded  up,  and  laid  by  for  the 
next  sabbath.  Imagine  that  the  leather  breeches,  after  several 
years'  wear,  got  greasy  as  they  grew  old,  and  were  only  flexible 
so  long  as  they  were  on,  and  kept  warm  by  the  superflux  of 
youthful  heat. 

Imagine,  that  in  the  morning  of  a  cold  day  in  January,  when 
the  snow  which  had  blown  into  the  bed-chamber  through  the 
broken  pane,  or  through  the  crevices  of  an  old  garret,  had 
filled  the  breeches,  and  stiffened  them  almost  into  horn, — 
imagine,  we  say,  this  young  apprentice  shaking  out  the  snow, 
and  pulling  them  on.  It  makes  us  shudder  to  think  of  it,  and 
to  commiserate  the  poor  hapless  wight,  who  had  to  warm  them 
into  flexibility  by  some  of  that  superabundant  heat  which  had 
been  acquired  by  lying  warm  in  a  straw  bed,  covered  up  by  a 
good,  substantial  woollen  rug,  before  he  could  move  his  legs 
down  stairs  to  kindle  a  fire  for  his  master.  What  a  contrast 
between  the  dress  of  an  apprentice  now,  and  a  fellow-sufferer 
seventy  years  since  ! 

A  SUPERSTITIOUS  TAILOR. 

Col.  Thomas  Forrest,  who  died  in  1828,  at  the  age  of 
eighty-three,  had  been  in  his  early  days  a  youth  of  much 
frolic  and  fun,  always  well  disposed  to  give  time  and  applica 
tion  to  forward  a  joke.  He  found  much  to  amuse  himself  in 
the  credulity  of  some  of  the  German  families.  I  have  heard 
him  relate  some  of  his  anecdotes  of  the  prestigious  kind  with 
much  humor.  When  he  was  about  twenty-one  years  of  age, 


A   SUPERSTITIOUS   TAILOR.  243 

a  tailor  who  was  measuring  him  for  a  suit  of  clothes  hap 
pened  to  say,  "  Ah !  Thomas,  if  you  and  I  could  only  find 
some  of  the  money  of  the  sea-robbers  (the  pirates),  we  might 
drive  our  coach  for  life."  The  sincerity  and  simplicity  with 
which  he  uttered  this  caught  the  attention  of  young  Forrest ; 
and,  when  he  went  home,  he  began  to  devise  some  scheme  to 
be  amused  with  his  credulity  and  superstition.  There  was  a 
prevailing  belief,  that  the  pirates  had  hidden  many  sums  of 
money,  and  much  of  treasure,  about  the  banks  of  the  Dela 
ware.  Forrest  got  an  old  parchment,  on  which  he  wrote  the 
dying-testimony  of  one  John  Hendricks,  executed  at  Tyburn 
for  piracy,  in  which  he  stated  that  he  had  deposited  a  chest 
and  pot  of  money  at  Cooper's  Point  in  the  Jerseys.  This 
parchment  he  smoked,  and  gave  to  it  the  appearance  of  anti 
quity  ;  and,  calling  on  his  German  tailor,  he  told  him  he  had 
found  it  among  his  father's  papers,  who  had  got  it  in  En 
gland  from  the  prisoner,  whom  he  visited  in  prison.  This  he 
showed  to  the  tailor  as  a  precious  paper  which  he  could  by 
no  means  lend  out  of  his  hand.  This  operated  the  desired 
effect. 

Soon  after,  the  tailor  called  on  Forrest  with  one  Ambruster,  a 
printer,  whom  he  introduced  as  capable  of  "  printing  any  spirit 
out  of  hell,"  by  his  knowledge  of  the  black  art.  He  asked  to 
show  him  the  parchment.  He  was  delighted  with  it,  and  confi 
dently  said  he  could  conjure  Hendricks  to  give  up  the  money. 
A  time  was  appointed  to  meet  in  an  upper  room  of  a  public- 
house  in  Philadelphia,  by  night ;  and  the  innkeeper  was  let 
into  the  secret  by  Forrest.  By  the  night  appointed,  they  had 
prepared  by  a  closet  a  communication  with  a  room  above  their 
sitting-room,  so  as  to  lower  down  by  a  pulley  the  invoked  ghost, 
who  was  represented  by  a  young  man  entirely  sewed  up  in  a 
close  white  dress,  on  which  were  painted  black-eyed  sockets, 
mouth,  and  bare  ribs  with  dashes  of  black  between  them,  the 
outside  and  inside  of  the  legs  and  thighs  blackened,  so  as  to 
make  white  bones  conspicuous  there.  About  twelve  persons 
met  in  all,  seated  around  a  table.  Ambruster  shuffled  and  read 
out  cards,  on  which  were  inscribed  the  names  of  the  New 


244  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

Testament  saints,  telling  them  he  should  bring  Hendricks  to 
encompass  the  table,  visible  or  invisible  he  could  not  tell. 
At  the  words,  "  John  Hendricks,  du  verfluchter,  cum  heraus" 
the  pulley  was  heard  to  reel,  the  closet-door  to  fly  open,  and 
John  Hendricks,  with  ghastly  appearance,  to  stand  forth.  The 
whole  were  dismayed,  and  fled,  save  Forrest  the -brave.  After 
this,  Ambruster,  on  whom  they  all  depended,  declared  that  he 
had  by  spells  got  permission  to  take  up  the  money.  A  day 
was  therefore  appointed  to  visit  the  Jersey  shore,  and  to  dig 
there  by  night.  The  parchment  said  it  lay  between  two  great 
stones.  Forrest,  therefore,  prepared  two  black  men  to  be 
entirely  naked,  except  white  petticoat  breeches  ;  and  these 
were  to  jump  each  on  the  stone  whenever  they  came  to  the 
pot  which  had  been  previously  put  there.  These  frightened 
off  the  company  for  a  little.  When  they  next  essayed,  they 
were  assailed  by  cats  tied  two  and  two,  to  whose  tails  were 
spiral  papers  of  gunpowder,  which  illuminated  and  whizzed, 
while  the  cats  whawled.  The  pot  was  at  length  got  up,  and 
brought  in  great  triumph  to  Philadelphia  wharf ;  but  oh,  sad 
disaster  !  while  helping  it  out  of  the  boat,  Forrest,  who  man 
aged  it,  and  was  handing  it  up  to  the  tailor,  trod  upon  the 
gunnel,  and  filled  the  boat,  and,  holding  on  to  the  pot,  dragged 
the  tailor  into  the  river — it  was  lost !  For  years  afterwards, 
they  reproached  Forrest  for  that  loss,  and  declared  he  had  got 
the  chest  himself,  and  was  enriched  thereby.  He  favored  the 
conceit,  until  at  last  they  actually  sued  him  on  a  writ  of 
treasure-trove  ;  but  their  lawyer  was  persuaded  to  give  it  up 
as  idle. 

WASHINGTON  IN  PHILADELPHIA. 

While  Washington  lived  in  Philadelphia  as  president,  he  had 
his  formal  levee  visits  every  two  weeks,  on  Tuesday  afternoon, 
which  were  understood  by  himself  to  be  given  by  the  president 
cf  the  United  States,  and  not  on  his  own  account.  He  was 
therefore  not  to  be  seen  by  any  and  every  body,  but  required 
that  every  one  should  be  introduced  by  his  secretary,  or  by 
some  gentlemen  whom  he  knew  himself.  The  place  of  recep 
tion  was  the  dining-room  in  the  rear,  —  a  room  of  about  thirty 


WASHINGTON  IN  PHILADELPHIA.  24$ 

feet  in  length.  Mrs.  Washington  received  her  visitors  in  the 
two  rooms  on  the  second  floor  from  front  to  rear. 

At  three  o'clock,  the  visitor  was  introduced  to  this  dining 
room,  from  which  all  seats  had  been  removed  for  the  time. 
On  entering,  he  saw  the  tall,  manly  figure  of  Washington,  clad 
in  black  silk  velvet,  his  hair  in  full  dress,  powdered,  and 
gathered  behind  in  a  large  silk  bag ;  yellow  gloves  on  his 
hands,  holding  a  cocked  hat  with  a  black  cockade  in  it,  and 
the  edges  adorned  with  a  black  feather  about  an  inch  deep. 
He  wore  knee  and  shoe  buckles,  and  a  long  sword.  He 
stood  always  in  front  of  the  fireplace,  with  his  face  towards 
the  door  of  entrance.  The  visitor  was  conducted  to  him,  and 
his  name  distinctly  announced.  He  received  his  visitor  with 
a  dignified  bow,  in  a  manner  avoiding  to  shake  hands,  even 
with  best  friends.  As  visitors  came,  they  formed  a  circle 
round  the  room ;  and,  at  a  quarter-past  three,  the  door  was 
closed,  and  the  circle  was  formed  for  that  day.  He  then 
began  on  the  right,  and  spake  to  each  visitor,  calling  him  by 
name,  and  exchanging  a  few  words.  When  he  had  completed 
this  circuit,  he  resumed  his  first  position  ;  and  the  visitors 
approaching  him  in  succession,  bowed  and  retired.  By  four 
o'clock,  this  ceremony  was  over.  These  facts  have  been 
learned  in  general  from  the  reminiscences  of  Gen.  Sullivan. 

Mrs.  Washington's  levees  were  every  Friday  evening,  at 
which  occasion  the  general  was  always  present.  It  was  an 
occasion  for  emulous  and  aspiring  belles  to  essay  to  win  his 
attention.  But  he  was  never  familiar :  his  countenance  uni 
formly,  even  there,  preserved  its  habitual  gravity.  A  lady  of 
his  family  said  it  was  his  habit,  also,  when  without  company, 
and  that  she  only  remembered  him  to  have  once  made  a  hearty 
laugh  in  a  narrative  and  incident  in  which  she  was  a  party. 
The  truth  was,  his  deportment  was  unavoidably  grave  :  it  was 
sobriety,  stopping  short  of  sadness.  His  presence  inspired 
a  veneration  and  a  feeling  of  awe  rarely  experienced  in  the 
presence  of  any  man.  His  mode  of  speaking  was  slow  and 
deliberate ;  not  as  though  he  was  in  search  of  fine  words,  but 
that  he  might  utter  those  only  adapted  to  his  purposes. 


246  PENNS  YL  VA  ATIA. 

When  Congress  agreed  by  law  to  rest  at  Philadelphia  ten 
years,  the  legislature  of  Pennsylvania  voted  a  large  edifice 
for  Gen.  Washington  as  President,  in  South  Ninth  Street 
(the  site  of  the  present  university)  ;  but  the  president,  when  he 
saw  it,  would  not  occupy  it,  because  of  the  great  expense  to 
furnish  it  at  his  own  cost;  for  then  the  nation  never  thought 
of  that  charge  to  their  account.  His  dinner-parties  were 
given  every  Thursday  at  four  o'clock  precisely,  never  waiting 
for  any  guests.  His  company  usually  assembled  fifteen  to 
twenty  minutes  before  dinner,  in  the  drawing-room.  H? 
always  dressed  in  a  suit  of  black,  sword  by  his  side,  and 
hair  powdered.  Mrs.  Washington  often,  but  not  always, 
dined  with  the  company ;  and,  if  there  were  ladies  present, 
they  sat  on  each  side  of  her.  Mr.  Lear,  his  private  secretary, 
sat  at  the  foot  of  the  table,  and  was  expected  to  be  specially 
attentive  to  all  the  guests.  The  president  himself  sat  half 
way  from  the  head  to  the  foot  of  the  table,  and  on  that  side 
which  would  place  Mrs.  Washington,  though  distant  from 
him,  on  his  right  hand.  He  always  asked  a  blessing  at  his 
own  table,  and  in  a  standing  posture.  If  a  clergyman  was 
present,  he  asked  him  to  do  it.  The  dishes  were  always  with 
out  covers  :  a  small  roll  of  bread  enclosed  in  a  napkin  was  on 
the  side  of  each  plate.  The  president  generally  dined  on  one 
dish,  and  that  of  a  very  simple  kind.  He  avoided  the  first 
or  second  course,  as  "too  rich  for  me."  He  had  a  silver 
pint  cup  or  mug  of  beer  placed  by  his  plate,  of  which  he 
drank :  he  took  but  one  glass  of  wine  at  dinner,  and  com 
monly  one  after.  He  then  retired  (the  ladies  having  gone  a 
little  before),  leaving  his  secretary  to  tarry  with  the  wine- 
bibbers  while  they  might  further  remain.  There  were  placed 
upon  his  table,  as  ornaments,  sundry  alabaster  mythological 
figures  of  about  two  feet  high.  The  centre  of  the  table  con 
tained  five  or  six  large  silver  or  plated  waiters.  The  table 
itself  was  of  an  oval  shape  :  at  the  end  were  also  some  silver 
waiters  of  an  oval  form.  It  was  the  habit  of  Gen.  Washing 
ton  to  go  every  day,  at  twelve  o'clock,  to  set  his  watch  at 
Clark's  standard,  south-east  corner  of  Front  and  High  Streets. 


WASHINGTON  IN  PHILADELPHIA. 

There  all  the  porters  took  off  their  hats,  and  stood  uncovered, 
till  he  turned  and  went  back  again.  He  always  bowed  to 
such  salutation,  and  lifted  his  hat  in  turn. 

Washington's  coach  was  presented  to  him,  it  is  said,  by 
Louis  XVI.,  King  of  France,  as  a  mark  of  personal  esteem 
and  regard.  Others  have  said  it  had  been  brought  out  for  the 
late  Gov.  Penn.  It  was  cream-colored,  globular  in  its  shape, 
and  capacious  within ;  ornamented  in  the  French  style,  with 
Cupids  supporting  festoons,  and  wreaths  of  flowers,  em 
blematically  arranged  along  the  panel  work ;  the  figures  and 
flowers  beautifully  covered  with  fine  glass,  very  white  and 
dazzling  to  the  eye  of  youth  and  simplicity  in  such  matters. 
It  was  drawn  sometimes  by  four,  but  in  common  by  two,  very 
elegant  Virginia  bays,  with  long  switch  tails  and  splendid 
harness,  and  driven  by  a  German,  tall  and  muscular,  possess 
ing  an  aquiline  nose.  He  wore  a  cocked  hat,  square  to  the 
front,  seemingly,  in  imitation  of  his  principal,  but  thrown  a 
little  back  upon  his  long  cue,  and  presenting  to  the  memory  a 
figure  not  unlike  the  one  of  Frederick  of  Prussia,  upon  the 
sign  in  Race  Street :  he  exhibited  an  important  air,  and  was 
evidently  proud  of  his  charge.  On  the  death  of  Washington, 
this  coach  found  its  way  to  New  Orleans,  after  the  purchase 
of  Louisiana;  and  there,  being  found  at  a  plantation  in  the 
time  of  Packenham's  invasion,  got  riddled  with  shot,  and 
destroyed.  The  chief  of  its  iron  work  has  since  been  used 
in  the  palisade  to  H.  Milne's  grave. 

On  Sunday  mornings,  at  the  gate  of  Christ  Church,  the 
appearance  of  this  coach,  awaiting  the  breaking-up  of  the 
service,  never  failed  in  drawing  a  crowd  of  persons,  eager, 
when  he  came  forth,  for  another  view  of  this  nobleman  of 
nature,  and  stamping  with  their  feet  in  freezing  weather  upon 
the  pavement  to  keep  them  warm  the  while.  The  indistinct 
sounds  of  the  concluding  voluntary  upon  the  organ  within 
were  no  sooner  heard  by  them  than  the  press  became  formida 
ble,  considering  the  place  and  the  day.  During  the  slow 
movement  of  the  dense  crowd  of  worshippers  issuing  from 
the  opened  door,  and  the  increased  volume  of  sound  from  the 


248  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

organ,  it  was  not  necessary  for  the  stranger  visiting  the  city, 
and  straining  his  vision  to  behold  the  general  for  the  first 
time,  to  inquire  of  his  jostled  neighbor,  "Which  is  he?" 
There  could  be  no  mistake  in  this  matter :  Washington  was 
to  be  known  at  once. 

His  noble  height  and  commanding  air;  his  person  envel 
oped  in,  what  was  not  very  common  in  those  days,  a  rich  blue 
Spanish  cloak  faced  with  red  silk  velvet,  thrown  over  the  left 
shoulder  ;  his  easy,  unconstrained  movement ;  his  inimitable 
expression  of  countenance,  on  such  occasions  beaming  with 
mild  dignity  and  beneficence  combined ;  his  patient  demeanor 
in  the  crowd,  emerging  from  it  to  the  eye  of  the  beholder, 
like  the  bright  silvery  moon  at  night  from  the  edge  of  a  dark 
cloud ;  his  gentle  bendings  of  the  neck  to  the  right  and  to 
the  left,  parentally,  and  expressive  of  delighted  feelings  on 
his  part,  —  these,  with  the  appearance  of  the  awed  and 
charmed  and  silent  crowd  of  spectators  gently  falling  back 
on  each  side  as  he  approached,  unequivocally  announced 
to  the  gazing  stranger,  as  with  the  voice  of  one  "trumpet- 
tongued,"  Behold  the  man  ! 

THE   CHEVALIER  DU  B c.1 

It  was  about  the  year  1792,  that  the  Duke  of  Orleans, — 
now  Louis  Philippe,  King  of  France,  —  accompanied  by  his 
two  brothers,  Montpensier  and  Beaujolais,  came  to  the  western 
country.  On  arriving  in  Pittsburg,  then  a  small  village,  they 
found  one  or  two  emigres,  who  had  formerly  filled  prominent 
stations  under  the  aucien  regime,  but  who  were  now  earning 
a  scanty  subsistence  in  carrying  on  some  little  business  of 

merchandise.     One   of  them,  the  Chevalier  du  B c,  one 

of  the  worthiest  of  men,  and  an  admirable  philosopher,  kept  a 
little  shop,  then  denominated,  par  excellence,  a  confectionery. 
The  articles  (and  the  only  ones,  by  the  way)  entitling  the 
chevalier's  establishment  to  this  attractive  name  were  the 
kernels  of  hazclnuts,  walnuts,  and  peach-stones,  enclosed  in 

1  This  reminiscence  was  contributed  to  Watson's  Annals  by  Morgan  Neville. 


THE   CHEVALIER  DU  B C.  249 

an  envelope  of  burnt  maple-sugar,  fabricated  by  the  skilful 

hands  of  the  chevalier  himself.      Du  B c  was  the  most 

popular  citizen  of  the  village.  He  had  a  monkey  of  admirable 
qualities ;  and  his  pointer  (Sultan)  could,  like  the  dog  in  the 
Arabian  Nights,  tell  counterfeit  money  from  good :  at  least, 
the  honest  folks  who  supplied  our  little  market  with  chickens 
and  butter  thought  so,  and  that  was  the  same  thing.  It  was 
amusing  to  hear  the  master  of  the  shop  calling  his  two  fami 
liars  to  aid  him  in  selecting  the  good  from  the  bad  "  'leven- 
penny-bits."  "  Aliens,  Sultan,  tell  dese  good  ladie  de  good 
money  from  de  counterfait."  Then  followed  the  important  con 
sultation  between  the  dog  and  the  monkey.  Pug  grinned, 
and  scratched  his  sides:  Sultan  smelled,  and  in  due  time 
scraped  the  money  into  the  drawer.  As  there  were  no  coun 
terfeit  "  'leven-pences,"  Sultan  seldom  failed.  "  Madame," 
would  my  friend  say  to  the  blowzy  country  lass,  "  Sultan  is  like 
de  pope :  he  is  infallible."  Sultan  and  Bijou  laid  the  foun 
dation  of  this  excellent  man's  fortune.  They  brought  crowds 
of  custom  to  the  shop ;  and  in  two  or  three  years  he  was 
enabled  to  convert  his  little  business  into  a  handsome  fancy 
store.  An  attraction  was  then  added  to  the  establishment, 
that  diverted  a  portion  of  the  public  admiration  from  Sultan 
and  the  monkey :  this  was  a  Dutch  clock,  with  a  goodly 
portion  of  gilding,  and  two  or  three  white-and-red  figures  in 
front :  before  striking,  it  played  a  waltz.  It  was  inestimable. 
This  music  had  never  before  been  heard  in  the  West ;  and  those 
who  have  been  brought  up  amidst  the  everlasting  grinding  of 
our  present  museums  can  have  no  conception  of  the  excite 
ment  caused  by  our  chevalier's  clock.  In  those  days,  every 
unique  piece  of  furniture,  or  rare  toy,  was  believed  to  have 
formed  a  part  of  the  spolia  opima  of  the  French  Revolution ; 
and  most  generally  they  were  set  down  as  the  property  of 
the  Queen  of  France.  It  was  soon  insinuated  abroad,  that 
the  chevalier's  clock  formed  one  of  the  rare  ornaments  of  the 
boudoir  of  the  unfortunate  Marie  Antoinette.  When  he  was 
asked  how  much  it  cost,  he  evaded  the  question  with  admi 
rable  casuistry.  "  Ah,  mon  ami,"  he  would  say  with  sincere 


25O  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

tristesse,  "the  French  Revolution  produce  some  terrible  effect : 
it  was  great  sacrifice :  it  is  worth  fifteen  hundred  franche 
guiney."  That,  and  the  dog  and  the  monkey,  were  worth  to 
the  chevalier  fifteen  thousand  dollars ;  for  he  realized  this  sum 
in  a  few  years,  from  a  foundation  of  a  few  pounds  of  sugar 
and  a  peck  of  hazelnuts. 

Such  was  the  Chevalier  du  B c  in  his  magazine  ;  and  he 

was  a  perfect  illustration  of  the  French  character  of  that 
day.  It  would  accommodate  itself  to  any  situation  in  life.  It 
enabled  the  minister  of  marine  to  become,  like  Bedredden,  a 
pastry-cook,  and  young  Egalite,  the  present1  King  of  France, 
a  schoolmaster  in  Canada.  But  this  is  only  one  side  of  the 

picture.     Du  B c,  when  he  closed  his  shop,  and  entered 

into  society,  was  the  delight  of  his  auditory.  He  was  an 
accomplished  scholar,  possessed  the  most  polished  manners 
and  habits  of  la  vieille  cour.  He  was  a  younger  son  ;  or,  as 
the  French  people  call  it,  he  was  the  "  cadet "  of  a  noble 
family.  He  had  travelled  much,  and  observed  profoundly. 
He  had  been  to  the  Holy  Land,  not  exactly  as  a  palmer,  but 
being  attache  a  la  legation  Francaise  at  Constantinople,  of 
which  his  relation,  Sauf  Bceuf,  was  the  head,  he  took  the  op 
portunity  of  travelling  through  as  much  of  Asia  as  was  usually 
examined  by  European  travellers.  Such  was  my  early  friend 

Du   B c,   to   whose    instructions    and    fine    belles-lettres 

acquirements,  I  am  indebted  for  some  of  the  most  unalloyed 
enjoyments  of  my  life,  by  opening  to  me  some  of  the  richest 
treasures  of  French  literature ;  and  such  was  the  man  whom 
the  sons  of  Orleans  found  in  a  frontier  American  village.  I 
do  not  remember  the  definite  destination  of  the  interesting 

strangers;   but  certain  it  is,  that  the  Chevalier  du  B c 

induced  them  to  while  away  a  much  longer  period  in  Pittsburg 
than  could  have  been  their  original  intention.  He  proposed 
to  Gen.  N ,  whose  house  was  always  the  temple  of  hos 
pitality,  where  he  was  in  the  habit  of  dining  every  Sunday, 
and  at  whose  table  and  fireside  the  unfortunate  emigre'  was 

1  Written  in  1843. 


THE   CHEVALIER  DU  D C. 

sure  to  find  a  hearty  welcome,  to  introduce  the  travellers. 
The  general  at  first  received  the  proposition  with  coldness. 
He  said  he  had  been  a  soldier  of  the  Revolution,  the  intimate 
of  Rochambeau  and  Lafayette,  and  of  course  entertained  a 
feeling  of  the  deepest  respect  for  the  memory  of  the  unfor 
tunate  Louis,  not  as  a  monarch,  but  as  a  most  amiable  and 
virtuous  man.  He  insisted  that  no  good  could  spring  from 
the  infamous  exciter  of  the  Jacobins,  the  profligate  Egalite. 
"  Mais,  mon  general  (said  the  chevalier  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  and  most  melancholy  contortion  of  his  wrinkled 
features),  ils  sont  dans  les  plus  grande  misere,  et  ils  ont  ete 
chasse",  comme  nous  autres,  par  ces  vilains  sans  culottes." 
The  chevalier  knew  his  man ;  and  the  bon  hommie  of  the 
general  prevailed.  "  Eh,  bien !  chevalier,  allez,  rendre  nos 
devoirs  aux  voyageurs,  et  qu'ils  dinent  chez  nous  demain." 
The  strangers  accepted  the  courtesy,  and  became  intimate 
with  and  attached  to  the  family  of  the  kind-hearted  American. 
The  charms  of  the  conversation  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  and 
his  various  literary  attainments,  soon  obliterated,  for  the 
moment,  the  horrible  career  of  his  father,  from  the  minds  of 
his  hearers.  If  my  boyish  recollection  is  faithful,  he  was 
rather  taciturn  and  melancholy.  He  would  be  perfectly  ab 
stracted  from  conversation,  sometimes  for  half  an  hour,  look 
ing  steadfastly  at  the  coal-fire  that  blazed  in  the  grate ;  and, 
when  roused  from  his  revery,  he  would  apologize  for  this 
breach  of  bienseance,  and  call  one  of  the  children  who  were 
learning  French  to  read  to  him.  On  these  occasions  I  have 
read  to  him  many  passages  selected  by  him  from  Telemaque. 
The  beautiful  manner  in  which  he  read  the  description  of 
Calypso's  Grotto  is  still  fresh  in  my  memory.  He  seldom 
adverted  to  the  scenes  of  the  Revolution;  but  he  criticised  the 
battles  of  that  period,  particularly  that  of  Jemapes,  with  such 
discrimination  as  to  convince  the  military  men  of  Pittsburg, 
of  whom  there  were  several,  that  he  was  peculiarly  fitted  to 
shine  in  the  profession  of  arms. 

Montpensier,  the  second  brother,  has  left  no  mark  on  the 
tablet  of  memory  by  which  I  can  recall  him  ;  but  Beaujolais, 


252  PEWNS  YL  VANIA. 

the  young  and  interesting  Beaujolais,  is  still  before  "  my  mind's 
eye."  There  was  something  romantic  in  his  character  ;  and 
Madame  de  Genlis'  romance,  "  The  Knights  of  the  Swan,"  in 
which  that  charming  writer  so  beautifully  apostrophizes  her 
young  ward,  had  just  prepared  every  youthful  bosom  to  lean 
towards  this  accomplished  boy.  He  was  tall  and  graceful,  and 
playful  as  a  child.  He  was  a  universal  favorite.  He  was  a 
few  years  older  than  myself ;  but,  when  together,  we  appeared 
to  be  of  the  same  age.  A  transient  cloud  of  melancholy 
would  occasionally  pass  over  his  fine  features  in  the  midst  of 
his  gayest  amusements  ;  but  it  disappeared  quickly,  like  the 
white  cloud  of  summer.  We  then  ascribed  it  to  a  boyish 
recollection  of  the  luxuries  and  splendors  of  the  Palais  Royal, 
in  which  he  had  passed  his  early  life,  which  he  might  be  con 
trasting  with  the  simple  domestic  scene  which  was  passing 
before  him.  It  was,  however,  probably  in  some  measure  im- 
putable  to  the  first  sensation  of  that  disease,  which,  in  a  few 
short  years  afterwards,  carried  him  to  the  grave. 

One  little  circumstance  made  a  singular  impression  on  me. 
I  was  standing  one  day  with  this  group  of  Frenchmen,  on  the 
bank  of  the  Monongahela,  when  a  countryman  of  theirs, 
employed  in  the  quartermaster's  department,  as  a  laborer,  in 
taking  care  of  the  flat-boats,  passed  by.  Pierre  Cabot,  or,  as 
he  was  familiarly  called,  French  Peter,  was  dressed  in  a 
blanket  capot,  with  a  hood  in  place  of  a  hat,  in  the  manner  of 

the  Canadian  boatmen,  and  in  moccasons.  Du  B c  called 

after  him,  and  introduced  him  to  the  French  princes.  The 
scene  presented  a  subject  for  moralizing,  even  for  a  boy :  on 
the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  and  in  exile,  the  representative  of  the 
first  family  of  a  nation  who  held  rank  of  higher  importance 
than  any  other  nation  in  Europe,  took  by  the  hand  in  a  friendly 
and  familiar  conversation  his  countryman,  whose  lot  was  cast 
among  the  dregs  of  the  people,  and  who  would  not  have 
aspired  to  the  honor  of  letting  down  the  steps  of  the  carriage 
of  the  man  with  whom  he  here  stood  on  a  level. 

Peter  was  no  Jacobin :  he  had  emigrated  from  France 
before  the  philosophic  Robespierre  and  his  colleagues  had  en- 


THE   CHEVALIER  DU  B C.  2$$ 

lightened  their  fellow-citizens,  and  opened  their  eyes  to  the 
propriety  of  vulgar  brutality  and  ferocity.  Honest  Cabot, 
therefore,  felt  all  the  love  and  veneration  for  the  princes,  which 
Frenchmen  under  the  old  regime  never  failed  to  cherish  for 
members  of  the  grand  monarque.  I  was  a  great  favorite 
with  old  Peter.  The  next  time  I  met  him,  he  took  me  in  his 
arms,  and  exclaimed  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  Savez-vous,  mon 
enfant,  ce  qui  m'est  arrive*  j'ai  eu  1'honneur  de  causer  avec 
monseigneur,  en  pleine  rue  ?  Ah  !  bon  Dieu,  quelle  chose 
affreuse  que  la  revolution  !  " 

The  brothers,  on  quitting  Pittsburg,  left  a  most  favorable 
impression  on  the  minds  of  the  little  circle  in  which  they  were 
received  so  kindly.  The  recollection  of  the  amiable  Beaujo- 
lais  was  particularly  cherished ;  and  when  the  news  of  his 
death  in  Sicily,  a  few  years  after,  reached  the  West,  the  family 
circle  of  Gen.  N expressed  the  sincerest  sorrow. 

The  Chevalier  du  B c,  after  realizing  a  snug  fortune  by 

industry  and  economy,  removed  to  Philadelphia,  to  have  the  op 
portunity  of  mingling  more  with  his  countrymen.  On  the  res 
toration  of  the  Bourbons,  his  friends  induced  him  to  return  to 
France  to  resume  the  former  rank  of  his  family.  But  it  was  too 
late  :  the  philosophical  emigrant  had  lived  too  long  in  American 
seclusion  to  relish  the  society  of  Paris,  or  habits  had  changed 
there  too  much  to  be  recognized  by  him.  The  following  is  a 
translation  of  a  paragraph  from  one  of  his  letters  to  his  old 
friend,  the  late  Gen.  N ,  soon  after  his  arrival  in  Paris. 

"  I  must  bear  witness  to  the  improvement  and  advancement 
of  my  country  since  the  Revolution :  as  a  man,  however,  I 
cannot  but  mourn.  The  storm  has  not  left  a  single  shrub  of 
my  once  numerous  family  ;  the  guillotine  has  drunk  the  blood 
of  all  my  race  ;  and  I  now  stand  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  the 
dust  of  a  name  whose  pride  it  once  was  to  trace  its  history 
through  all  the  distinguished  scenes  of  French  history  for 
centuries  back.  With  the  eloquent  savage,  Logan,  whose 
speech  you  have  so  often  read  to  me,  I  can  say,  that  '  not  a 
drop  of  my  blood  runs  in  the  veins  of  any  living  creature.'  I 
must  return  to  America,  and  breathe  my  last  on  that  soil 
where  my  most  contented  days  were  passed." 


254  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

The  chevalier  never  returned,  however :  he  lingered  away 
his  time  in  the  different  seaports  of  France ;  and  he  died  at 
last  in  the  city  of  Bordeaux. 

THE  EPHRATAH  INSTITUTION. 

There  was,  as  early  as  1732  to  1740,  a  very  remarkable 
religious  sect  of  Germans  formed  at  Ephratah,  intended  to 
live  in  a  monastic  life  :  in  time,  it  also  included  a  separate 
sisterhood.  They  formed  a  considerable  town,  and  grew  in 
wealth  by  their  industry,  and  rise  of  value  in  lands.  At  one 
time,  they  were  many  in  number,  but  now  have  dwindled  away. 
They  were  undoubtedly  sincere  and  exemplary  in  their  religious 
principles  and  actions.  Dr.  W.  M.  Fahnestock  of  Harrisburg, 
who  lately  united  himself  to  them,  and  has  probably  become 
one  of  their  preachers,  has  given  a  long  and  interesting 
historical  sketch  of  this  people,  in  Hazard's  Register  of  1835. 
They  were  remarkable  as  a  community,  in  being  fine  Latinists, 
writing  and  speaking  Latin  as  readily  as  their  vernacular 
tongue.  Men  of  wealth  in  Philadelphia,  who  sought  good 
classical  education  for  their  sons,  used  to  send  them  there  ; 
and  I  have  known  some  educated  there  who  used  to  corre 
spond  with  some  of  the  brotherhood  in  Latin.  But,  above  all, 
they  were  peculiar  for  their  superior  music  and  singing.  It 
was  this  last  attraction  which  first  allured  young  Dr.  Fahne 
stock  to  their  meetings ;  and  when  his  heart  was  touched,  like 
St.  Augustine's,  he  readily  fell  into  sympathy  with  their  re 
ligion,  —  a  thing  in  itself  found  needful,  in  some  way,  for  all 
men  who  come  to  think  considerately. 

Their  music  was  so  peculiar  as  to  deserve  some  special  men 
tion,  "  not  as  music  for  the  ear,  but  as  music  for  the  soul." 
One  of  their  leaders,  Beissel,  was  a  first-rate  musician  and 
composer. 

In  composing  sacred  music,  he  took  his  style  from  the  music 
of  Nature  ;  and  the  whole,  comprising  several  large  volumes, 
are  founded  on  the  tones  of  the  y^olian  harp  :  the  singing  is 
the  ^Eolian  harp  harmonized.  It  is  very  peculiar  in  its  style 
and  concords,  and  in  its  execution.  The  tones  issuing  from 


THE  EPHRATAPI  INSTITUTION1.  255 

the  choir  imitate  very  soft  instrumental  music,  conveying  a 
softness  and  devotion  almost  superhuman  to  the  auditor. 
Their  music  is  set  in  two,  four,  five,  and  seven  parts.  All  the 
parts,  save  the  bass,  are  led  and  sung  exclusively  by  females, 
the  men  being  confined  to  the  bass,  which  is  set  in  two  parts, 
—  the  high  and  low  bass,  the  latter  resembling  the  deep  tones  of 
the  organ  ;  and  the  first,  in  combination  with  one  of  the  female 
parts,  is  an  excellent  imitation  of  the  concert-horn.  The  whole 
is  sung  on  \hzfalsetto  voice,  the  singers  scarcely  opening  their 
mouths,  or  moving  their  lips,  which  throws  the  voice  up  to  the 
ceiling,  which  is  not  high ;  and  the  tones,  which  seem  to  be 
more  than  human,  at  least,  so  far  from  common  church  sing 
ing,  appear  to  be  entering  from  above,  and  hovering  over  the 
heads  of  the  assembly.  Their  singing  so  charmed  the  com 
missioners  who  were  sent  to  visit  the  society  by  the  English 
Government,  after  the  French  war,  that  they  requested  a  copy 
to  be  sent  to  the  royal  family  in  England,  which  was  cheerfully 
complied  with,  and  which,  I  understand,  is  still  preserved  in 
the  National  Library.  About  twelve  months  afterwards,  a  box 
was  received,  of  three  or  four  feet  long,  and  two  or  two  and  a 
half  wide,  containing  a  present  in  return.  What  the  present 
was  is  not  now  certainly  known,  none  having  seen  it  but 
Friedsam  and  Jabez,  who  was  then  prior,  and  into  whose 
care  it  was  consigned.  It  was  buried  secretly  by  him  with  the 
advice  of  Beissel.  It  is  supposed,  by  a  hint  given  by  Jabez, 
that  it  was  images  of  the  king  and  queen  in  full  costume,  or 
images  of  the  Saviour  on  the  cross,  and  the  Virgin  Mary ;  sup 
posing,  as  many  in  this  country  have  erroneously  thought,  that 
the  people  of  Ephratah  possess  many  of  the  Catholic  principles 
and  feelings.  The  king,  at  whose  instance  they  were  sent,  was 
a  German  ;  and  we  may  presume  that  he  considered  that  they 
retained  the  same  views  as  the  monastic  institutions  of  Europe. 
They  have  nearly  a  thousand  pieces  of  music,  a  piece  being 
composed  for  every  hymn.  This  music  is  lost  entirely  now  at 
Ephratah,  —  not  the  music-books,  but  the  style  of  singing :  they 
never  attempt  it  any  more.  It  is,  however,  still  preserved  and 
finely  executed,  though  in  a  faint  degree,  at  Snowhill,  near  the 


256  PENNS  YL  VA  NT  A . 

Antietam  Creek,  in  Franklin  County  of  this  State,  where 
there  is  a  branch  of  the  society,  and  which  is  now  the  princi 
pal  settlement  of  the  Seventh  Day  Baptists.  They  greatly 
outnumber  the  people  of  Ephratah,  and  are  in  a  very  flourish 
ing  condition.  There  they  keep  up  the  institution  as  originally 
established  at  Ephratah,  and  are  growing  rapidly.  Their  sing 
ing,  which  is  weak  in  comparison  with  the  old  Ephratah  choir, 
and  may  be  likened  to  the  performance  of  an  overture  by  a 
musical  box,  with  its  execution  by  a  full  orchestra  in  the  opera- 
house,  is  so  peculiar  and  affecting,  that,  when  once  heard,  it  can 
never  be  forgotten. 

THE  ENTRY  OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY  INTO  PHILADELPHIA. 

I  can  well  remember  [writes  a  lady  to  me]  the  previous 
gloom  spread  over  the  minds  of  the  inhabitants,  from  the 
time  it  was  thought  the  enemy  would  advance  through  the 
Jerseys  ;  the  very  darkest  hour  of  the  Revolution  appearing  to 
me  to  be  that  preceding  the  capture  of  the  Hessians  at  Trenton. 
The  Tories,  who  favored  the  government  at  home  (as  England 
was  then  called),  became  elated,  and  the  Whigs  depressed. 
This  may  account  for  a  good  deal  of  severity  that  was  used 
before  the  constituted  authorities  of  that  time  left  the  city,  in 
visiting  the  inhabitants,  and  inspecting  what  stores  of  pro 
visions  they  had,  taking,  in  some  instances,  what  they  deemed 
superfluous,  especially  blankets,  of  which  our  army  were  in 
great  need.  After  the  public  authorities  had  left  the  city,  it 
was  a  very  gloomy  time  indeed.  We  knew  the  enemy  had 
landed  at  the  head  of  Elk :  but  of  their  procedure  and  move 
ments  we  had  but  vague  information ;  for  none  were  left  in 
the  city  in  public  employ,  to  whom  expresses  would  be  ad 
dressed.  The  day  of  the  battle  of  Brandywine  was  one  of 
deep  anxiety.  We  heard  the  firing,  and  knew  of  an  engage 
ment  between  the  armies,  without  expecting  immediate  infor 
mation  of  the  result,  when,  towards  night,  a  horseman  rode  at 
full  speed  down  Chestnut  Street,  and  turned  round  Fourth  to 
the  Indian  Queen  public-house.  Many  ran  to  hear  what  he 
had  to  tell  ;  and,  as  I  remember,  his  account  was  pretty  near 
the  truth.  He  told  of  Lafayette  being  wounded. 


ENTRY  OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY.  2$? 

We  had  for  a  neighbor  and  an  intimate  acquaintance  a  very 
amiable  English  gentleman  (H.  Gurney),  who  had  been  in  the 
British  army,  and  had  left  the  service  upon  marrying  a  rich 
and  excellent  lady  of  Philadelphia  some  years  before.  He 
was  a  person  so  much  liked  and  esteemed  by  the  public,  that 
he  remained  unmolested  at  a  time  when  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety  sent  many  excellent  citizens  into  banishment 
without  a  hearing,  upon  the  most  vague  and  unfounded  sus 
picion,  but  contented  themselves  with  only  taking  his  word 
of  honor  that  he  would  do  nothing  inimical  to  the  country, 
nor  furnish  the  enemy  with  any  information.  He  endeavored 
to  give  my  mother  confidence  that  the  inhabitants  would  not 
be  ill  treated.  He  advised  that  we  should  be  all  well  dressed, 
and  that  we  should  keep  our  houses  closed.  The  army 
marched  in,  and  took  possession  of  the  town  in  the  morning. 
We  were  up  stairs,  and  saw  them  pass  to  the  State  House. 
They  looked  well,  clean,  and  well  clad ;  and  the  contrast  be 
tween  them  and  our  own  poor,  barefooted,  and  ragged  troops, 
was  very  great,  and  caused  a  feeling  of  despair.  It  was  a 
solemn  and  impressive  day  ;  but  I  saw  no  exultation  in  the 
enemy,  nor,  indeed,  in  those  who  were  reckoned  favorable  to 
their  success.  Early  in  the  afternoon,  Lord  Cornwallis's  suite 
arrived,  and  took  possession  of  my  mother's  house.  But  my 
mother  was  appalled  by  the  numerous  train  which  took  pos 
session  of  her  dwelling,  and  shrank  from  having  such  in 
mates  ;  for  a  guard  was  mounted  at  the  door,  and  the  yard 
filled  with  soldiers  and  baggage  of  every  description.  And  I 
well  remember  what  we  thought  of  the  haughty  looks  of  Lord 
Rawdon  l  and  the  other  aide-de-camp,  as  they  traversed  the 
apartments.  My  mother  desired  to  speak  with  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  ;  and  he  attended  her  in  the  front-parlor.  She  told  him 
of  her  situation,  and  how  impossible  it  would  be  for  her  to 
stay  in  her  own  house  with  such  a  numerous  train  as  com 
posed  his  lordship's  establishment.  He  behaved  with  great 
politeness  to  her,  said  he  should  be  sorry  to  give  trouble,  and 

1  Since  the  Marquis  of  Hastings,  and  who  died  at  Malta  in  1826. 
17 


25  8  PEA'NS  YL  VANIA. 

would  have  other  quarters  looked  out  for  him.  They  withdrew 
that  very  afternoon  ;  and  he  was  accommodated  at  Peter 
Reeve's,  in  Second,  near  to  Spruce  Street,  and  we  felt  very 
glad  at  the  exemption.  But  it  did  not  last  long  ;  for  directly 
the  quartermasters  were  employed  in  billeting  the  troops,  and 
we  had  to  find  room  for  two  officers  of  artillery,  and  after 
wards,  in  addition,  for  two  gentlemen,  secretaries  of  Lord 
Howe.  The  officers  very  generally,  I  believe,  behaved  with 
politeness  to  the  inhabitants  ;  and  many  of  them,  upon  going 
away,  expressed  their  satisfaction  that  no  injury  to  the  city 
was  contemplated  by  their  commander.  They  said  that  liv 
ing  among  the  inhabitants,  and  speaking  the  same  language, 
made  them  uneasy  at  the  thought  of  acting  as  enemies. 

At  first  provisions  were  scarce  and  dear,  and  we  had  to 
live  with  much  less  abundance  than  we  had  been  accustomed 
to.  Hard  money  was,  indeed,  as  difficult  to  come  at  as  if  it 
had  never  been  taken  from  the  mines,  except  with  those  who 
had  things  to  sell  for  the  use  of  the  army.  They  had  given 
certificates  to  the  farmers,  as  they  came  up  through  Chester 
County,  of  the  amount  of  stores  they  had  taken  ;  and,  upon 
these  being  presented  for  payment  at  headquarters,  they  were 
duly  honored.  My  mother  received  a  seasonable  supply  in 
this  way  from  persons  who  were  in  her  debt,  and  had  been 
paid  for  what  the  army  had  taken.  Every  thing  considered, 
the  citizens  fared  better  than  could  have  been  expected  ;  and 
though  it  was  extremely  disagreeable  in  many  places,  on 
account  of  the  dirt,  yet  the  city  was  healthy.  The  enemy 
appeared  to  have  a  great  deal  of  shipping  in  the  Delaware  :  I 
counted  sixty  vessels  that  looked  of  large  size,  moored  so 
close  to  each  other,  that  it  seemed  as  if  you  could  not  pass  a 
hand  between  them,  near  to  where  the  navy-yard  now  is  ;  and 
all  the  wharves  and  places  seemed  crowded.  There  was  scarce 
any  thing  to  sell  in  the  shops  when  they  came  into  the  town ; 
and  the  paper  money  had  depreciated  to  nothing.  I  remember 
two  pieces  of  silk  that  I  saw  on  sale  a  little  before  their 
arrival  at  a  hundred  dollars  per  yard.  Tea  was  fifty  and  sixty 
dollars  per  pound. 


THE  MESCHIANZA   AT  PHILADELPHIA.     259 

Gen.  Howe,  during  the  time  he  staid  in  Philadelphia, 
seized  and  kept  for  his  own  use  Mary  Pemberton's  coach  and 
horses,  in  which  he  used  to  ride  about  the  town.  The  old 
officers  appeared  to  be  uneasy  at  his  conduct ;  and  some  of 
them  freely  expressed  their  opinions.  They  said,  that,  before 
his  promotion  to  the  chief  command,  he  sought  for  the  coun 
sels  and  company  of  officers  of  experience  and  merit ;  but 
now  his  companions  were  usually  a  set  of  boys,  —  the  most 
dissipated  fellows  in  the  army.  Lord  Howe  was  much  more 
sedate  and  dignified  than  his  brother,  —  really  dignified  ;  for 
he  did  not  seem  to  affect  any  pomp  or  parade.  They  were 
exceedingly  chagrined  and  surprised  at  the  capture  of  Bur- 
goyne,  and  at  first  would  not  suffer  it  to  be  mentioned.  We 
had  received  undoubted  intelligence  of  the  fact  in  a  letter 
from  Charles  Thomson  ;  and,  upon  communicating  this  cir 
cumstance  to  Henry  Gurney,  his  interrogatories  forced  an 
acknowledgment  from  some  of  the  superior  officers,  that  it 
was,  as  he  said,  "  alas,  too  true  !  " 

One  of  my  acquaintance  —  indeed,  an  intimate  one  —  per 
formed  the  part  of  a  "  nymph  of  the  Blended  Rose "  in  the 
splendid  festival  of  the  Meschianza ;  but  I  saw  no  part  of  the 
show,  not  even  the  decorated  hall  where  the  knights  and 
ladies  supped  amidst  the  "grand  Salema"  of  their  turbaned 
attendants,  nor  even  the  ridotto  part,  which  was  gazed  at 
from  the  wharves  and  warehouses  by  all  the  uninvited  popu 
lation  of  the  town. 

THE  MESCHIANZA  AT  PHILADELPHIA. 

This  is  the  appellation  of  the  most  splendid  pageant  ever 
exhibited  in  our  country,  if  we  except  the  great  "  Federal 
Procession  "  of  all  trades  and  professions,  through  the  streets 
of  Philadelphia  in  1788.  The  Meschianza  was  chiefly  a  tilt 
and  tournament,  with  other  entertainments,  as  the  term  im 
plies  ;  and  was  given  on  Monday,  the  i8th  of  May,  1778,  at 
Wharton's  country-seat  in  Southwark,  by  the  officers  of  Gen. 
Sir  William  Howe's  army,  to  that  officer,  on  his  quitting  the 
command  to  return  to  England.  A  considerable  number  of  our 


260  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

city  belles  were  present,  which  gave  considerable  offence  after 
wards  to  the  Whigs,  and  did  not  fail  to  mark  the  fair  as  the 
"  Tory  ladies."  The  ill-nature  and  the  reproach  have  long 
since  been  forgotten. 

The  company  began  to  assemble  at  three  to  four  o'clock,  at 
Knight's  Wharf,  at  the  water  edge  of  Green  Street  in  the 
Northern  Liberties  ;  and,  by  half-past  four  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon,  the  whole  were  embarked,  in  the  pleasant  month  of 
May,  in  a  "grand  regatta"  of  three  divisions.  In  the  front 
of  the  whole  were  three  flat-boats,  with  a  band  of  music  in 
each  of  them,  "rowed  regular  to  harmony."  As  this  assem 
blage  of  vessels  progressed,  barges  rowed  on  the  flanks, 
"light  skimming,  stretched  their  oary  wings,"  to  keep  off  the 
multitude  of  boats  that  crowded  from  the  city  as  beholders  ; 
and  the  houses,  balconies,  and  wharves  were  filled  with  spec 
tators  all  along  the  river-side. 

When  arrived  at  the  fort  below  the  Swedes'  church,  they 
formed  a  line  through  an  avenue  of  grenadiers,  and  light- 
horse  in  the  rear.  The  company  were  thus  conducted  to  a 
square  lawn  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  on  each  side,  and 
which  was  also  lined  with  troops.  This  area  formed  the 
ground  for  a  ////,  or  tournament.  On  the  front-seat  of  each 
pavilion  were  placed  seven  of  the  principal  young  ladies  of 
the  country,  dressed  in  Turkish  habits,  and  wearing  in  their 
turbans  the  articles  which  they  intended  to  bestow  on  their 
several  gallant  knights.  Soon  the  trumpets  at  a  distance 
announced  the  approach  of  the  seven  white  knights,  habited 
in  white  and  red  silk,  and  mounted  on  gray  chargers  richly 
caparisoned  in  similar  colors.  These  were  followed  by  their 
several  esquires  on  foot.  Besides  these,  there  was  a  herald  in 
his  robe.  These  all  made  the  circuit  of  the  square,  saluting  the 
ladies  as  they  passed  ;  and  then  they  ranged  in  line  with  their 
ladies.  Then  their  herald,  Mr.  Beaumont,  after  a  flourish  of 
trumpets,  proclaimed  their  challenge  in  the  name  of  "the 
Knights  of  the  Blended  Rose,"  declaring  that  the  ladies  of  their 
order  excel  in  wit,  beauty,  and  accomplishments  those  of  the 
whole  world  ;  and  they  are  ready  to  enter  the  lists  against  any 


THE  MESCHIANZA  AT  PHILADELPHIA.     26 1 

knights  who  will  deny  the  same,  according  to  the  laws  of 
ancient  chivalry.  At  the  third  repetition  of  the  challenge,  a 
sound  of  trumpets  announced  the  entrance  of  another  herald, 
with  four  trumpeters  dressed  in  black  and  orange.  The  two 
heralds  held  a  parley,  when  the  black  herald  proceeded  to 
proclaim  his  defiance  in  the  name  of  "M<?  Knights  of  the  Burn 
ing  Mountain"  Then  retiring,  there  soon  after  entered  " the 
black  knights  "  with  their  esquires,  preceded  by  their  herald, 
on  whose  tunic  was  represented  a  mountain  sending  forth 
flames,  and  the  motto,  "  I  burn  forever." 

These  seven  knights,  like  the  former  ones,  rode  round  the 
lists,  and  made  their  obeisance  to  the  ladies,  and  then  drew 
up  fronting  the  white  knights  ;  and,  the  chief  of  these  having 
thrown  down  his  gauntlet,  the  chief  of  the  black  knights 
directed  his  esquire  to  take  it  up.  Then  the  knights  received 
their  lances  from  their  esquires,  fixed  their  shields  on  their 
left  arms,  and,  making  a  general  salute  to  each  other  by  a 
movement  of  their  lances,  turned  round  to  take  their  career, 
and,  encountering  in  full  gallop,  shivered  their  spears.  In  the 
second  and  third  encounter,  they  discharged  their  pistols.  In 
the  fourth,  they  fought  with  their  swords. 

From  the  garden,  they  ascended  a  flight  of  steps  covered 
with  carpets,  which  led  into  a  spacious  hall,  the  panels  of 
which  were  painted  in  imitation  of  Sienna  marble,  enclosing 
festoons  of  white  marble.  In  this  hall  and  the  adjoining 
apartments  were  prepared  tea,  lemonade,  &c.,  to  which  the 
company  seated  themselves.  At  this  time,  the  knights  came 
in,  and  on  their  knee  received  their  favors  from  their  respec 
tive  ladies.  From  these  apaptments,  they  went  up  to  a  ball 
room,  decorated  in  a  light,  elegant  style  of  painting,  and  showing 
many  festoons  of  flowers.  The  brilliancy  of  the  whole  was 
heightened  by  eighty-five  mirrors  decked  with  ribbons  and 
flowers ;  and  in  the  intermediate  spaces  were  thirty-four 
branches.  On  the  same  floor  were  four  drawing-rooms,  with 
sideboards  of  refreshments,  decorated  and  lighted  in  the  style 
of  the  ball-room.  The  ball  was  opened  by  the  knights  and 
their  ladies ;  and  the  dances  continued  till  ten  o'clock,  when 


262  PENNSYL  VANIA. 

the  windows  were  thrown  open,  and  a  magnificent  bouquet  of 
rockets  began  the  fire-works.  These  were  planned  by  Capt. 
Montresor,  the  chief  engineer,  and  consisted  of  twenty  differ 
ent  displays  in  great  variety  and  beauty,  and  changing  Gen. 
Howe's  arch  into  a  variety  of  shapes  and  devices.  At  twelve 
o'clock  (midnight),  supper  was  announced  ;  and  large  folding- 
doors,  before  concealed,  sprang  open,  and  discovered  a  mag 
nificent  saloon  of  two  hundred  and  ten  feet  by  forty  feet,  and 
twenty-two  feet  in  height,  with  three  alcoves  on  each  side, 
which  served  for  sideboards.  The  sides  were  painted  with 
vine-leaves  and  festoon-flowers,  and  fifty-six  large  pier-glasses, 
ornamented  with  green-silk  artificial  flowers  and  ribbons. 
There  were  also  one  hundred  branches  trimmed,1  and  eighteen 
lustres  of  twenty-four  lights  hung  from  the  ceiling.  There 
were  three  hundred  wax-tapers  on  the  supper-tables,  four  hun 
dred  and  thirty  covers,  and  twelve  hundred  dishes.  There 
were  twenty-four  black  slaves  in  Oriental  dresses,  with  silver 
collars  and  bracelets. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  banquet,  the  herald  with  his 
trumpeters  entered,  and  announced  the  king  and  royal  family's 
health,  with  other  toasts.  Each  toast  was  followed  by  a 
flourish  of  music.  After  the  supper,  the  company  returned  to 
the  ball-room,  and  continued  to  dance  until  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  I  omit  to  describe  the  two  arches  ;  but  they  were 
greatly  embellished.  They  had  two  fronts,  in  the  Tuscan 
order.  The  pediment  of  one  was  adorned  with  naval  tro 
phies  ;  and  the  other,  with  military  ones.  Major  Andre,  who 
wrote  a  description  of  it  (although  his  name  is  concealed), 
calls  it  "  the  most  splendid  entertainment  ever  given  by  an 
army  to  its  general."  The  whole  expense  was  borne  by 
twenty-two  field-officers.  The  managers  were  Sir  John  Wrot- 
lesby,  Col.  O'Hara,  Majors  Gardiner  and  Montresor.  This 
splendid  pageant  blazed  out  in  one  short  night.  Next  day, 
the  enchantment  was  dissolved ;  and  in  exactly  one  month  all 

*  All  the  mirrors  and  lustres,  &c.,  were  borrowed  from  the  citizens,  and  were  all 
sent  home  with  all  their  ornaments  attached  to  them  as  a  compliment  for  their  use. 
—  7.  F.  Watson. 


THE  MESCHIANZA   A  T  PHILADELPHIA.      263 

these  knights,  and  the  whole  army,  chose  to  make  their  march 
from  the  city  of  Philadelphia. 

When  I  think  of  the  few  survivors  of  that  gay  scene  who 
now  exist  (of  some  whose  sprightliness  and  beauty  are  gone), 
I  cannot  but  feel  a  gloom  succeed  the  recital  of  the  fete.  I 
think,  for  instance,  of  one  who  was  "  then  the  queen  of  the 

Meschianza,"  since  Mrs.  L ,  now  blind,  and  fast  waning 

from  the  "  things  that  be."  To  her  I  am  indebted  for  many 
facts  of  illustration.  She  tells  me  that  the  unfortunate  Major 
Andre  was  the  charm  of  the  company.  Lieut.  Andre,  his 
esquire,  was  his  brother,  a  youth  of  about  nineteen,  possess 
ing  the  promise  of  an  accomplished  gentleman.  Major  Andre* 
and  Capt.  Oliver  Delancey  themselves  painted  the  chief  of 
the  decorations.  The  Sienna  marble,  for  instance,  on  the 
apparent  side -walls,  was  on  canvas,  in  the  style  of  stage-scene 
painting.  Andre  also  painted  the  scenes  used  at  the  theatre 
at  which  the  British  officers  performed.  The  proceeds  were 
given  to  the  widows  and  orphans  of  their  soldiers.  The 
waterfall  scene,  drawn  by  him,  was  still  in  the  building  when 
it  lately  burnt.  She  assures  me,  that,  of  all  that  was  borrowed 
for  the  entertainment,  nothing  was  injured  or  lost.  They 
desired  to  pay  double  if  accidents  occurred.  The  general 
deportment  of  the  officers  was  very  praiseworthy  therein. 
There  were  no  ladies  of  British  officers,  save  Miss  Auchmuty, 
the  new  bride  of  Capt.  Montresor.  The  American  young 
ladies  present  were  not  numerous,  not  exceeding  fifty.  The 
others  were  married  ladies.  Most  of  our  ladies  had  gone 
from  the  city  ;  and  what  remained  were,  of  course,  in  great 
demand.  The  American  gentlemen  present  were  aged  non- 
combatants.  Our  young  men  were  Whigs  generally,  and  were 
absent. 

No  offence  was  offered  to  the  ladies  afterwards  for  their 
acceptance  of  this  instance  of  an  enemy's  hospitality.  When 
the  Americans  returned,  they  got  up  a  great  ball  to  be  given 
to  the  officers  of  the  French  army  and  the  American  officers 
of  Washington's  command.  When  the  managers  came  to 
invite  their  guests,  it  was  made  a  question  whether  the  "  Mes- 


264  PENNS  YL  VAN! A. 

chianza  ladies  "  should  be  invited.  It  was  found  they  could 
not  make  up  their  company  without  them :  they  were  there 
fore  included.  When  they  came,  they  looked  differently  hab 
ited  from  those  who  had  gone  to  the  country,  "  they  having 
assumed  the  high  head-dress,"  &c.,  of  the  British  fashion  ;  and 
so  the  characters,  unintentionally,  were  immediately  perceived 
at  a  glance  through  the  hall.  But,  lots  being  cast  for  partners, 
they  were  soon  fully  intermixed  ;  and  conversation  ensued  as 
if  nothing  of  jealousy  had  ever  existed,  and  all  umbrage  was 
forgotten. 

The  same  lady  was  also  at  a  splendid  supper  and  dance 
given  by  Capt.  Hammond  on  board  "  The  Roebuck."  The  ship 
was  fully  illuminated  ;  and  one  hundred  and  seventy-two  per 
sons  sat  down  to  supper.  Miss  J.  C g,  who  was  also  a 

knight's  lady,  has  kindly  given  me  her  original  invitation  from 
Sir  Henry  Calder  (an  officer  of  high  rank),  and  also  an  original 
drawing  by  Major  Andre*  of  the  dress  for  that  fete.  He 
sketched  it  to  give  the  ladies  an  idea  of  the  garb  they  should 
assume.  In  reality  it  was  this  :  for  the  Blended  Rose,  a  white 
silk,  called  a  polonaise,  forming  a  flowing  robe,  and  open  in 
front  on  the  waist ;  the  pink  sash  six  inches  wide,  and  filled 
with  spangles  ;  the  shoes  and  stockings  also  spangled ;  the 
head-dress  more  towering  than  the  drawing,  and  filled  with  a 
profusion  of  pearls  and  jewels.  The  veil  was  spangled,  and 
edged  with  silver  lace.  She  says  the  whole  scene  was  like 
enchantment  to  her  young  mind. 

The  ladies  of  the  Black  Knights  wore  white  sashes  edged 
with  black,  and  black  trimmings  to  white  silk  polonaise  gowns. 
The  ticket  is  surmounted  with  Sir  William  Howe's  crest ; 
and  the  shield  represents  the  sea,  which  Sir  William  is  about 
to  cross:  hence  '•'•Vive  Vale"  The  setting  glory  of  the  sun, 
and  the  Latin  scroll,  seem  to  indicate,  that,  although  their 
luminary  is  thus  receding  from  them,  it  shall  rise  again  (resur- 
gam}  in  another  hemisphere. 


PRIVATIONS.  265 

PRIVATIONS. 

I  have  often  heard  it  stated  by  persons  who  went  through 
the  trials  of  that  period,  that  we  their  descendants  have  no 
just  conceptions  of  their  state  of  suffering  and  deprivations. 
Their  clothing  was  of  the  coarsest  form,  —  of  home-made,  — 
made  by  the  women's  spinning  done  in  the  house :  they  also 
made  all  the  shirting  and  sheeting,  &c.  Where  so  much  was 
to  be  done,  it  was  necessary  that  all  should  help  :  to  this  cause, 
I  know  that  two  lads,  both  afterwards  commodores  in  the 
United  States  navy,  were  both  taught  to  be  good  spinners 
on  the  little  wheel.  Tea,  coffee,  chocolate,  sugar,  and  all 
kinds  of  spices,  were  wholly  gone  in  almost  all  country- 
places.  Sage -tea  and  teaberry  were  used  as  substitutes. 
Salt  was  greatly  needed,  and  could  not  be  procured.  When 
sometimes  smuggled  into  the  country,  it  was  done  in  women's 
pockets.  Salt-pans  were  settled  all  along  the  seacoast  to 
make  salt  at  expensive  rates.  In.  many  places  where  the 
armies  passed,  flour  was  not  to  be  had  for  bread.  People  in 
Virginia  and  elsewhere  were  obliged  to  live  on  pounded  corn. 
The  mills  were  equally  dismantled  by  both  of  the  warring 
parties.  I  have  known  persons  in  very  respectable  and 
decent  families,  that  found  very  great  difficulties  to  keep 
themselves  even  passably  clothed.  Women  indulged  in  no 
fineries  or  changes  then :  all  pretence  to  fashion  was  wholly 
out  of  the  question.  Wherever  the  armies  were  to  pass  and 
forage,  &c.,  as  through  New  Jersey  and  Virginia,  and  the 
Carolinas,  the  farmers  lost  nearly  all  they  had  that  was  eatable 
or  movable.  Their  horses  were  pressed,  and  their  cows  and 
swine  taken :  they  had  no  spirit  to  sow  seed,  or  to  till  their 
grounds.  There  was  no  regular  business  in  any  thing :  even 
apprentices  were  not  safe  ;  for  they  had  to  serve  their  turns  in 
the  several  requisitions.  There  was,  indeed,  a  mighty  spirit 
of  resistance  raised  and  maintained  by  the  men  of  that  day; 
but  the  women  felt  the  war  extremely ;  and  both  men  and 
women  were  most  heartily  glad  when  they  at  last  saw  that 
their  struggles  were  to  have  end.  It  was  an  occasion  of 


266  PENNSYLVANIA. 

extravagant  and  universal  joy.  It  could  never  have  been 
borne  so  long  as  it  was,  but  that  the  practice  of  war  then 
gave  long  seasons  of  respite  during  the  several  winters,  allow 
ing  time  to  the  worn-down  to  recruit  their  strength  and  spirits, 
and  giving  time  to  resort  to  new  enterprises,  and  to  new 
means  of  recruiting  their  forces,  &c.  Besides  all  this,  it  was 
almost  a  universal  expectation  that  every  next  campaign  would 
surely  end  the  contest.  None  foresaw  or  feared  a  term  of 
seven  years. 

In  our  present  repose,  and  consciousness  of  strength  and 
security,  we  can  hardly  conceive  the  state  of  excitement  and 
concern  daily  felt  in  the  Revolutionary  period.  A  friend  of 
mine,  who  was  an  observant  and  intelligent  boy,  dwelling  on 
a  farm  near  the  Yellow  Springs,  in  Chester  County,  has  re 
lated  to  me  some  of  the  incidents  of  that  time.  Their  ordi 
nary  religious  sabbath  worship  was  irregular,  and  broken  up : 
their  male  neighbors,  every  here  and  there,  were  absent  on 
militia  service.  The  talk  and  greeting  of  the  neighbors  were 
generally  about  the  absentees.  News  was  very  uncertain,  and 
yet  anxiously  inquired  after.  News  "by  flood  and  field" 
occasionally  came,  which  stirred  and  disturbed  the  whole  com 
munity  :  sometimes  it  came  saddening,  of  some  one  or  other 
mishap  befallen,  to  some  one  of  their  families.  When  the 
news  of  the  landing  of  the  British  at  the  head  of  Elk,  and  of 
their  advance  upon  the  Brandywine,  occurred,  every  family 
was  put  upon  the  tiptoe  of  expectation  and  alarm  :  besides 
which,  new  calls  were  made  upon  the  people  to  go  to  head 
quarters  as  soldiers,  guides,  or  wagoners.  In  the  absence 
of  the  males  of  the  families,  women  and  children  were  full  of 
apprehension.  Floors  were  taken  up,  and  out-houses  made 
into  concealed  places  for  their  most  valuable  articles  of  por 
table  character.  They  had  all  undefined  apprehensions  of 
being  plundered  and  abused.  At  and  after  the  time  of  the 
battle  of  Brandywine,  the  country  could  be  seen  all  in  motion, 
in  the  rapid  coming  and  going  of  men  on  horseback.  In 
time,  could  be  seen  numerous  bands  and  parties  of  wearied 
and  discomfited  soldiers,  none  of  them  aiming  at  order,  and 


PRIVA  TIONS.  267 

some  few  of  them  without  officers  or  anus.  Some  were  going 
to  an  assigned  point  on  the  Schuylkill;  but  several  were 
resolved  to  make  their  escape  to  their  homes.  Many  of  them 
were  beggars  for  some  refreshments  ;  and  all  was  cheerfully 
given  to  them  which  they  could  spare.  For  many  nights,  the 
family  sat  up  all  night,  from  wakeful  apprehension.  The 
father  of  the  family  I  describe  had  been  a  Quaker,  so  strictly 
trained,  that  his  sister,  who  was  a  preacher,  would  not  wear 
her  caps  of  any  other  than  brown  linen,  —  white  being  a  con 
demned  refinement,  —  for  dress  sake.  Such  a  man,  although 
averse  to  war,  had  by  this  time  become  so  far  warlike,  that  he 
had  gone  for  the  country,  and  was  actually  from  home,  in  the 
ranks,  where  he  took  a  severe  cold  from  sleeping  on  the 
ground,  and  died. 

On  one  of  the  nights  of  apprehension,  there  came  to  the 
house  a  small  company  of  cavalry  Their  presence  was 
disquieting  anyhow ;  but  when  they  took  off  their  military 
cloaks,  and  displayed  the  red  coats  of  British  officers,  the 
dread  they  caused  was  irrepressible.  "  What  shall  we  do  ? 
and  to  what  is  this  visit  of  the  enemy  to  tend  ?"  They  saw 
the  dismay,  and  soon  quieted  them  by  saying  they  were 
American  officers  in  disguise,  out  upon  a  tour  of  recognizance 
near  to  the  enemy.  Every  now  and  then,  after  the  winter 
campaign  was  deemed  closed,  and  the  British  were  gayly  rev 
elling  in  Philadelphia,  the  dread  of  British  foraging-parties 
was  felt.  Any  thing  of  military  aspect,  and  approaching  them 
on  horseback,  was  quickly  interpreted  as  British  assailants, 
and  set  the  whole  family  in  commotion.  Sometimes  they 
were  parties  of  Americans,  half  as  clamorous  for  needed  suc 
cors  as  the  British  themselves  would  probably  have  been. 
Men  acting  as  farmers  felt  as  if  they  had  no  security  for 
reaping  what  they  might  plant.  The  heart  was  heavy,  and 
reluctant  at  its  wonted  toil.  Mothers,  acting  in  the  absence 
of  their  husbands,  looked  upon  their  children,  and  wondered 
if  their  fathers  should  ever  return  to  foster  and  rear  them. 
Sad  forebodings  were  but  too  often  true.  Such  facts,  thus 
faintly  expressed,  have  been  but  too  true  a  picture  all  over  our 


268  PENNS  YL  VA  NIA. 

extended  country  of  united  colonies,  wherever  the  approach 
of  the  hostile  bands  could  be  apprehended,  or  were  realized. 
Those  who  lived  upon  the  frontiers  were  kept  in  Indian 
alarms  ;  and  those  along  the  Atlantic  dreaded  British  invasion 
and  ravages.  Their  march  was  always  a  cause  of  desolation 
and  anxiety,  even  where  their  discipline  was  intended  to  check 
any  individual  and  family  aggressions. 

VALLEY  FORGE. 

P.  S.  Duponceau,  Esq.,  who  was  one  of  the  young  officers 
of  the  army  at  Valley  Forge  (aide  to  Steuben),  relates  some 
facts  of  stirring  interest.  They  bore,  said  he,  their  condition 
of  half-naked  and  half-famished  men,  with  fortitude,  resigna 
tion,  and  patience.  Sometimes  you  might  see  soldiers  pop 
their  heads  out  of  their  huts,  and  call  out  in  an  undertone, 
"  No  bread,  no  soldier  !  "  But  a  single  word  from  their  officer 
would  still  their  complaint.  He  has  spoken  of  the  Washing 
ton  family  in  such  picturesque  terms  as  makes  us  see  the  life. 
The  general,  partaking  of  the  hardships  of  his  brave  men,  was 
accustomed  to  sit  down  with  his  invited  officers,  &c.,  to  a  scanty 
piece  of  meat,  with  some  hard-bread  and  a  few  potatoes.  At 
his  house,  called  "  Moore  Hall,"  they  drank  the  health  and 
prosperity  of  the  nation  in  humble  toddy  ;  and  the  luxurious 
dessert  consisted  of  a  plate  of  hickory-nuts.  There  his  forti 
tude,  and  dignity  of  demeanor,  always  gave  new  spirits  to  his 
officers.  Even  in  those  scenes,  Mrs.  Washington,  as  was  her 
practice  in  the  winter  campaigns,  had  joined  her  husband,  and 
possessing  always,  at  the  head  of  his  table,  her  mild,  dignified 
countenance.  Grave  yet  cheerful,  her  countenance  and  her 
manner  reflected  the  feelings  of  the  hero  whose  name  she 
bore.  Her  presence  inspired  fortitude  ;  and  those  who  came 
to  her  with  almost  desponding  hearts  retired  full  of  hope  and 
confidence. 

A  gentleman  (C.  M.),  who  was  an  officer  at  the  camp,  has 
told  me  of  some  of  their  hardships  there.  Fresh  beef  they 
could  scarcely  get :  of  vegetables  they  had  none,  save  some 
times  some  potatoes.  Their  table  was  loose  planks,  rough,  as 


OLD  DOCTORS.  269 

split  from  the  tree.  One  dish,  of  wood  or  of  pewter,  sufficed 
for  a  mess.  A  horn  spoon,  and  tumbler  of  horn,  was  lent 
round.  Their  knife  was  carried  in  the  pocket.  Much  of  their 
diet  was  salted  herrings,  in  such  an  injured  state,  that  they 
would  not  hold  together  to  be  drawn  out  of  the  cask  singly,  but 
had  to  be  shovelled  up  en  masse.  Sugar,  coffee,  tea,  &c.,  were 
luxuries  not  seen.  They  had  only  Continental  money  ;  and  it 
was  so  depreciated,  it  would  not  allure  farmers  to  sell  to 
them.  Yet,  cheerless  as  was  such  a  state,  when  they  drew 
three  months'  pay,  a  number  of  subaltern  officers  sallied  out 
to  seek  mirth  and  jollity,  and  spent  a  month's  pay  in  one 
night  of  merry  revelry.  Sometimes,  for  pleasantry,  you  might 
see  a  squad  of  men  and  officers  affecting  to  have  received  a 
supply  of  whiskey  (of  which  they  were  often  without),  and 
passing  round  the  stone  jug,  as  if  filled,  when,  lo  !  the  eager 
expectant  found  it  was  only  water.  The  fun  was,  that  the 
deceived  still  kept  the  secret,  in  hopes  to  pass  it  to  another 
and  another  unwary  wight.  On  one  occasion  of  alarm,  the 
men  being  marched  out,  in  several  instances  were  so  shoeless 
as  to  mark  the  frozen  ground  with  blood,  when  Gen.  Conway, 
who  saw  it,  exclaimed,  "  My  dear  fellows,  my  heart  bleeds 
with  you ! " 

OLD  DOCTORS. 

[A  friend  of  Mr.  Watson's,  writing  under  the  nom  de  plume 
of  Lang  Syne,  published  the  following  reminiscences,  which 
Mr.  Watson  copied.] 

One  of  the  earliest  and  one  of  the  most  vivid  recollections 
in  this  city,  by  the  reminiscent,  is  of  the  person  of  old  Dr. 
Chovet,  living  at  the  time  directly  opposite  the  (now)  "  White 
Swan,"  in  Race,  above  Third  Street.1  He  it  was  who,  by  his 
genius,  professional  skill,  and  perseverance,  finally  perfected 
those  wonderful  (at  the  time)  anatomical  preparations  in  wax, 

1  It  might  justly  surprise  the  present  generation  to  know,  that,  in  1778,  this  Dr. 
Chovet  advertised  his  anatomical  lectures  to  take  place  at  his  amphitheatre  at  his 
dwelling-house  in  Water  Street,  near  the  old  ferry,  to  continue  during  the  winter ; 
his  charge  three  guineas.  Observe,  that  Water  Street  then  was  the  chief  place  of 
residence  for  the  best  families  of  the  business  class.  —  J.  F.  Watson. 


PENNS  YL  VA  NIA. 

which,  since  his  death,  have  been  in  possession  of  the  Penn 
sylvania  Hospital.  These  anatomical  preparations,  the  very 
sight  of  which  is  calculated  to  fill  the  mind  with  solemn  awe, 
while  beholding  not  only  the  streets,  but  the  lanes,  alleys,  and 
inner  chambers,  of  the  microcosm,  or  little  world  of  man,  were 
beheld  by  the  writer  only  some  few  years  since,  forcing  back 
upon  the  memory  the  once  aged  appearance  of  the  doctor, 
contrasted  with  the  exertions  made  by  him,  and  apparent  to 
every  one  who  beheld  him,  to  appear  active  and  sprightly  in 
business,  cleaving,  as  it  were,  to  his  "  last  sand."  This  aged 
gentleman  and  physician  was  almost  daily  to  be  seen  pushing 
his  way,  in  spite  of  his  feebleness,  in  a  kind  of  hasty  walk,  or, 
rather,  shuffle  ;  his  aged  head,  and  straight  white  hair,  bowed, 
and  hanging  forward  beyond  the  cape  of  his  black  old-fash 
ioned  coat,  mounted  by  a  small  cocked  hat,  closely  turned 
upon  the  crown  upwards  behind,  but  projectingly,  and  out  of 
all  proportion,  cocked  before,  and  seemingly  the  impelling 
cause  of  his  anxious  forward  movements.  His  aged  lips, 
closely  compressed  (sans  teeth)  together,  were  in  continual 
motion,  as  though  he  were  munching  somewhat  all  the  while  ; 
his  golden-headed  Indian  cane  not  used  for  his  support,  but 
dangling  by  a  knotted  black  silken  string  from  his  wrist. 
The  ferrule  of  his  cane,  and  the  heels  of  his  capacious  shoes 
(well  lined  in  winter-time  with  thick  woollen  cloth),  might  be 
heard  jingling,  and  scraping  the  pavement,  at  every  step.  He 
seemed  on  the  street  always  as  one  hastening,  as  fast  as  his 
aged  limbs  would  permit  him,  to  some  patient  dangerously  ill, 
without  looking  at  any  one  passing  him  to  the  right  or  left. 
He  was  always  spoken  of  as  possessing  much  sarcastic  wit, 
and  also  for  using  expletives  in  his  common  conversation,  in 
the  opinion  of  those  who  spoke  on  the  subject,  to  be  neither 
useful  nor  ornamental. 

An  anecdote  strikingly  illustrative  of  the  latter  might  here 
be  given  of  the  doctor,  and  a  member  of  the  Society  of 
Friends,  who  had  lent  him  his  great-coat  to  shelter  him,  on  his 
way  home,  from  the  then  falling  rain.  The  coat  was  loaned 
by  the  Friend  to  the  doctor,  with  a  moral  condition  annexed, 


OLD  DOCTORS.  2?1 

which,  upon  the  return  of  the  coat,  he  declared  he  had  reli 
giously  performed,  adding,  in  facetious  vein,  a  supplemental 
remark  to  the  Friend,  descriptive  of  an  unusual  propensity  he 
found  himself  to  be  laboring  under  during  the  whole  time  he 
had  been  enveloped  in  a  plain  coat.  Having  so  said  and  done, 
they  separated  on  the  most  friendly  terms,  with  a  hearty  laugh 
on  both  sides.  Does  none  remember? 

Dr.  Thomas  Say  lived  in  Moravian  (now  Bread)  Street,  on 
the  west  side,  near  Arch  Street.  Having  to  pass  that  way 
frequently  to  school,  his  person  became  very  familiar.  In  fair 
weather,  he  was  to  be  seen  almost  daily,  standing,  dressed  in 
a  light  drab  suit,  with  his  arms  gently  folded,  and  leaning  with 
one  shoulder  against  the  cheek  of  the  door,  for  the  support, 
evidently,  of  his  rather  tall  and  slender  frame,  now  weakened 
by  age.  He  was  the  same  Dr.  Thomas  Say,  who,  many  years 
before,  had  been  in  a  trance  of  three  days'  continuance ;  dur 
ing  which  time  (whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body,  he 
could  not  tell),  he  beheld  many  wonderful  matters,  as  is  fully 
detailed  in  "  The  Life  of  Thomas  Say,"  now  extant,  and  writ 
ten  by  his  son  Benjamin,  deceased.  He  was  of  fdir  complex 
ion  ;  and  his  thinly  spread  hair,  of  the  silvery  white,  curled 
slightly  over  and  behind  the  ears,  —  in  appearance  very 
venerable,  in  his  speech  and  manner  mild  and  amiable, — as 
is  well  remembered  concerning  him,  while  he  stood  one  day 
affectionately  admonishing  some  boys,  who  had  gazed  perhaps 
too  rudely  at  the  aged  man,  of  whom  they  had  heard,  probably, 
that  he  had  seen  a  vision.  He  mildly  advised  them  to  pass 
on  their  way,  pressing  at  the  same  time,  and  with  lasting 
effect,  upon  the  mind  of  one  of  them,  never  to  stare  (said  he) 
at  strangers  and  aged  men. 

The  next  aged  physician  of  the  Old  School  was  Dr.  Red 
man,  who  lived  next  door  to  Dr.  Ustick's  Baptist  meeting 
house,  in  Second,  near  Arch  Street.  The  doctor  had  retired 
from  practice  altogether,  and  was  known  to  the  public  eye  as 
an  antiquated-looking  old  gentleman,  usually  habited  in  a 
broad-skirted  dark  coat,  with  long  pocket-flaps,  buttoned  across 
his  under-dress ;  wearing,  in  strict  conformity  with  the  cut  of 


272  PEWNS  YL  VANIA. 

the  coat,  a  pair  of  Baron  Steuben's  military-shaped  boots, 
coming  above  the  knees,  for  riding ;  his  hat  flapped  before,  and 
cocked  up  smartly  behind,  covering  a  full-bottomed  powdered 
wig  —  in  the  front  of  which  might  be  seen  an  eagle-pointed 
nose,  separating  a  pair  of  piercing  black  eyes,  —  his  lips  exhib 
iting  (but  only  now  and  then)  a  quick  motion,  as  though  at  the 
moment  he  was  endeavoring  to  extract  the  essence  of  a  small 
quid.  As  thus  described  in  habit  and  in  person,  he  was  to 
be  seen  almost  daily,  in  fair  weather,  mounted  on  a  short,  fat, 
black,  switch-tailed  horse,  and  riding,  for  his  amusement  and 
exercise,  in  a  brisk,  racking  canter,  about  the  streets  and 
suburbs  of  the  city. 

He  was  so  well  known,  that,  in  his  rambles  about  the  town 
on  foot,  he  would  step  in,  without  ceremony,  at  the  first  public 
office  which  presented  itself  to  his  view,  and,  upon  his  seeing 
any  vacant  desk  or  writing-table,  set  himself  down,  with  a 
pleasant  nod  to  some  one  present,  and  begin  writing  his  letter 
or  memorandum.  One  day,  while  thus  occupied  in  his  writ 
ing,  he  was  suddenly  addressed  by  a  very  forward,  presuming 
person,  who  wanted  of  him  some  medical  advice  gratis.  Find 
ing  himself  thus  interrupted,  he  lifted  the  corner  of  his  wig, 
as  usual,  and  desired  the  person  to  repeat  his  question,  which 
he  did  loudly,  as  follows  :  "  Doctor,  what  would  you  advise 
as  the  best  thing  for  a  pain  in  the  breast  ?  "  The  wig  having 
dropped  to  its  proper  place,  the  doctor,  after  a  seemingly  pro 
found  study  for  a  moment  on  the  subject,  replied,  "  Oh,  ay ! 
I  will  tell  you,  my  good  friend :  the  very  best  thing  I  could 
advise  you  to  do  for  a  pain  in  the  breast  is  to  —  consult  your 
physician." 

These  three  veterans  of  the  city  in  the  science  and  practice 
of  medicine  in  the  time  of  the  colonies  —  like  three  remaining 
apples,  separate  and  lonely  upon  the  uppermost  bough  of  a 
leafless  tree — were  finally  shaken  to  the  ground  by  the  un 
relenting  wind  of  death,  and  gathered  to  the  "  narrow  house," 
as  very  readily  surmised  by  the  reader,  no  doubt. 

My  friend  Mr.  P.,  another  Philadelphian,  long  residing  in 
New  York,  has  also  communicated  his  reminiscences  of  some 


OLD  DOCTORS.  2/3 

of  the  Philadelphia  faculty  as  they  stood  impressed  upon  his 
boyish  judgment  and  feelings,  which  I  shall  add,  to  wit :  — 

"  I  wish  to  mention  the  names  of  a  few  physicians  in  my 
day.  Dr.  William  Shippen,  sen.,  resided,  when  he  left  off 
practice,  in  Germantown.  At  the  age  of  ninety,  he  would  ride 
in  and  out  of  the  city  on  horseback,  full  gallop,  without  an 
overcoat,  in  the  coldest  weather.  Dr.  Thomas  Bond  died  in 
1784;  always  rode  in  a  small  phaeton;  resided  in  Second 
Street,  near  Norris's  Alley.  Dr.  Redman  resided  near  the 
Baptist  Meeting,  in  Second  Street.  A  small  black  filly  had 
the  honor  to  carry  the  doctor  on  his  visits,  and  would  await 
his  return  at  the  door  of  the  patient.  The  doctor  would  some 
times  kindly  lend  his  creature ;  but  she  was  sure  to  throw  the 
rider.  Dr.  Chovet,  a  most  eccentric  man,  full  of  anecdote, 
and  noted  for  his  propensity  for  what  is  now  termed  quizzing, 
resided  in  Race,  above  Third  Street.  The  doctor  was  what 
was  termed  a  Tory ;  was  licensed  to  say  and  do  what  he 
pleased,  at  which  no  one  took  umbrage.  He  one  day  entered 
the  old  coffee-house,  corner  of  Market  and  Front  Streets,  with 
an  open  letter  in  his  hand  :  it  was  twelve  o'clock,  change  hour, 
the  merchants  all  assembled.  On  seeing  the  doctor,  they  sur 
rounded  him,  inquiring  what  news  he  had  in  that  letter,  which 
he  stated  he  had  just  received  by  a  king's  ship  arrived  at  New 
York.  In  reply  to  the  inquiry,  he  said  that  the  letter  con 
tained  information  of  the  death  of  an  old  cobbler  in  London, 
who  had  his  stall  in  one  of  the  by-streets,  and  asked  the  gen 
tlemen  what  they  supposed  the  cobbler  had  died  worth.  One 
said  five  thousand  pounds,  another  ten  thousand  pounds,  and 
another  twenty  thousand  pounds  sterling.  *  No,  gentlemen, 
no !  You  are  all  mistaken.  Not  one  farthing,  gentlemen,'  run 
ning  out,  laughing  at  the  joke  at  the  expense  of  the  collected 
mercantile  wisdom  of  the  city.  Another  time,  having  been 
sent  for  by  the  Spanish  minister,  Don  Juan  (I  forget  his 
name),  who  resided  in  old  Mr.  Chew's  house  in  Third,  between 
Walnut  and  Spruce  Streets,  the  weather  being  rather  un 
pleasant,  the  ambassador  ordered  his  carriage  to  the  door  to 
convey  the  doctor  home.  The  doctor,  full  of  fun  and  joke, 
18 


2  74  PEWNS  YL  VA  NIA. 

directed  the  coachman  to  drive  by  the  coffee-house,  which,  as 
he  approached,  was  perceived  by  the  merchants,  who  imme 
diately  drew  up  in  order,  hats  off,  to  pay  their  respects  to  the 
Don,  as  minister  from  a  friendly  power.  The  doctor  kept 
himself  close  back  in  the  carriage  until  directly  opposite  the 
coffee-house,  the  gentlemen  all  bowing  and  scraping ;  when 
he  pops  out  his  head,  '  Good-morning,  gentlemen,  good-morn 
ing.  I  hope  you  are  all  well.  Thank  you,  in  the  name  of 
his  Majesty  King  George,'  and  drove  off,  laughing  heartily  at 
having  again  joked  with  the  Philadelphia  Whigs." 

The  few  physicians  mentioned  in  the  preceding  notices  as 
having  their  pacing-nags,  or  a  little  wheeled  vehicle,  are  in 
tended  as  rarities  among  the  profession.  It  was  only  an  in 
dulgence  awarded  to  the  aged  and  infirm  to  submit  to  motive 
assistance.  Any  young  man  resorting  to  it  would  have  en 
dangered  his  reputation  and  practice.  Dr.  Rush  has  told  his 
friends  how  often  he  visited  Kensington  on  foot  to  serve  poor 
sick  persons,  from  whom  he  expected  nothing  directly,  but  by 
the  fame  of  which,  in  his  successful  practice  in  their  behalf, 
he  indirectly  was  rewarded  with  his  future  choice  of  practice 
there.  It  was  not  only  to  walk  far,  for  smaller  reward,  but 
the  time  was  before  the  fashion  of  umbrellas  and  boots,  that 
they  had  to  wade  through  unpaved  lanes  and  alleys  without 
defence  against  storms  of  rain,  hail,  or  snow.  As  if  it  were 
inferred  that  men  who  professed  to  heal  all  maladies  should 
themselves  be  invulnerable  to  the  assaults  of  disease. 

LYDIA  DARRAH. 

[Major  Garden,  whose  anecdotes  and  reminiscences  are 
mainly  of  the  Southern  campaign,  gives,  also,  certain  incidents 
relating  to  the  movements  of  the  army  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Philadelphia,  and,  amongst  others  the  story  often  told,  in  one 
form  or  another,  of  Lydia  Darrah.] 

The  superior  officers  of  the  British  army  were  accustomed 
to  hold  their  consultations,  on  all  subjects  of  importance,  at 
the  house  of  William  and  Lydia  Darrah,  members  of  the 
Society  of  Friends,  immediately  opposite  to  the  quarters  of 


LYDIA   DARRAH.  2/5 

the  commander-in-chief,  in  Second  Street.  It  was  in  Decem 
ber,  in  the  year  that  they  occupied  the  city,  that  the  adjutant- 
general  of  the  army  desired  Lydia  to  have  an  apartment 
prepared  for  the  reception  of  himself  and  friends,  and  to  order 
her  family  early  to  bed,  adding,  when  ready  to  depart,  "  Notice 
shall  be  given  to  you  to  let  us  out,  and  to  extinguish  the  fire 
and  candles."  The  manner  of  delivering  this  order,  especially 
that  part  of  it  which  commanded  the  early  retirement  of  her 
family,  strongly  excited  Lydia's  curiosity,  and  determined 
her,  if  possible,  to  discover  the  mystery  of  their  meeting. 
Approaching  without  shoes  the  room  in  which  the  conference 
was  held,  and  placing  her  ear  to  the  keyhole,  she  heard  the 
order  read  for  the  troops  to  quit  the  city  on  the  night  of  the 
4th,  to  attack  the  American  army  encamped  at  White  Marsh. 
Returning  immediately  to  her  room,  she  laid  herself  down; 
but,  in  a  little  while,  a  loud  knocking  at  the  door,  which  for 
some  time  she  pretended  not  to  hear,  proclaimed  the  intention 
of  the  party  to  retire.  Having  let  them  out,  she  again  sought 
her  bed,  but  not  to  sleep :  the  agitation  of  her  mind  precluded 
the  possibility  of  enjoying  it.  She  thought  only  of  the 
dangers  that  threatened  the  lives  of  thousands  of  her  country 
men  ;  and,  believing  it  to  be  in  her  power  to  avert  the  evil, 
determined,  at  all  hazards,  to  apprise  Gen.  Washington  of 
his  danger.  Telling  her  husband,  at  early  dawn,  that  flour 
was  wanting  for  domestic  purposes,  and  that  she  should  go 
to  Frankfort  to  obtain  it,  she  repaired  to  headquarters,  got 
access  to  Gen.  Howe,  and  obtained  permission  to  pass  the 
British  lines.  Leaving  her  bag  at  the  mill,  Lydia  now  pressed 
forward  towards  the  American  army,  and,  meeting  Capt. 
Allen  M'Lean  (an  officer,  from  his  superior  intelligence  and 
activity,  selected  by  Gen.  Washington  to  gain  intelligence, 
discovered  to  him  the  important  secret,  obtaining  his  promise 
not  to  jeopardize  her  safety  by  telling  from  whom  he  had 
obtained  it.  Capt.  M'Lean  with  all  speed  informed  the  com 
mander-in-chief  of  his  danger,  who,  of  course,  took  every 
necessary  step  to  baffle  the  contemplated  enterprise,  and  to 
show  the  enemy  that  he  was  prepared  to  receive  them.  Lydia 


2/6  PENNSYLVANIA. 

returned  home  with  her  flour,  secretly  watched  the  movements 
of  the  British  army,  and  saw  them  depart.  Her  anxiety  during 
their  absence  was  excessive  ;  nor  was  it  lessened,  when,  on 
their  return,  the  adjutant-general,  summoning  her  to  his 
apartment,  and  locking  the  door  with  an  air  of  mystery, 
demanded  whether  any  of  the  family  were  up  on  the  night 
that  he  had  received  company  at  her  house.  She  told  him, 
that,  without  an  exception,  they  had  all  retired  at  eight 
o'clock.  "  You,  I  know,  Lydia,  were  asleep  ;  for  I  knocked 
at  your  door  three'  times  before  you  heard  me.  Yet,  although 
I  am  at  a  loss  to  conceive  who  gave  the  information  of  the 
intended  attack  to  Gen.  Washington,  it  is  certain  that  we  were 
betrayed ;  for,  on  arriving  near  his  encampment,  we  found 
his  cannon  mounted,  his  troops  under  arms,  and  at  every 
point  so  perfectly  prepared  to  receive  us,  that  we  were  com 
pelled,  like  fools,  to  make  a  retrograde  movement,  without 
inflicting  on  our  enemy  any  manner  of  injury  whatsoever." 

ANECDOTES  OF  ROBERT  MORRIS. 

[From  Garden's  Anecdotes  again  we  take  several  incidents  in 
the  career  of  Robert  Morris,  related  mainly  by  Judge  Peters.] 

Mr.  Robert  Morris,  to  whom  the  United  States  is  more  in 
debted  for  their  prosperity  and  happiness  than  to  any  other 
^individual,  with  the  exception  of  Gen.  Washington,  overcome 
by  his  feelings,  quitted  the  hall  [of  Congress,  after  the  receipt 
of  alarming  news  from  the  army]  with  a  mind  completely  de 
pressed,  without  a  present  hope,  or  cheering  expectation  of 
future  prosperity.  On  entering  his  counting-house,  he  received 
the  welcome  intelligence,  that  a  ship  which  he  had  despaired 
of  had  at  that  moment  arrived  at  the  wharf  with  a  full  cargo 
of  all  the  munitions  of  war,  and  of  soldiers'  clothing.  He  re 
turned  to  Congress  almost  breathless  with  joy,  and  announced 
the  exhilarating  good  news.  Nor  did  propitious  fortune  end 
here.  Accidentally  meeting  with  a  worthy  Quaker  who  had 
wealth  at  command,  and  a  hearty  well-wisher  to  the  American 
cause,  although,  from  his  religious  principles,  averse  to  war  and 
fighting,  he  thought  it  no  departure  from  the  strict  line  of  pro- 


ANECDOTES  OF  ROBERT  MORRIS.  2// 

priety  to  endeavor,  by  every  exertion,  to  awaken  his  sympathy, 
and  obtain  his  assistance.  Assuming,  therefore,  an  expression 
of  countenance  indicative  of  the  most  poignant  anguish  and 
deep  despair,  he  was  passing  him  in  silence,  when  the  benevo 
lent  Quaker,  who  had  critically  observed  him,  and  marked  the 
agitation  of  his  mind,  feelingly  said,  "  Robert,  I  fear  there  is 
bad  news."  The  reply  was,  "  Yes,  very  bad  :  I  am  under  the 
most  helpless  embarrassment  for  the  want  of  some  hard 
money."  —  "  How  much  would  relieve  thy  difficulties,  Robert  ?  " 
The  sum  was  mentioned.  "  But  I  could  only  give  my  private 
engagement  in  a  note,  which  I  would  sacredly  pledge  my 
honor  to  repay,"  rejoined  Mr.  Morris.  "  Cease  thy  sorrows 
then,  Robert :  thou  shalt  have  the  money  in  confidence  of  thy 
silence  on  the  subject  as  it  regards  me."  The  specie  was  pro 
cured,  immediately  remitted  to  Gen.  Washington,  and  saved 
the  army. 

In  1779  or  1780,  two  of  the  most  distressing  years  of  the 
war,  Gen.  Washington  wrote  to  me  a  most  alarming  account 
of  the  prostrate  condition  of  the  military  stores,  and  enjoining 
my  immediate  exertions  to  supply  deficiencies.  There  were 
no  musket-cartridges  but  those  in  the  men's  boxes  ;  and  they 
were  wet.  Of  course,  if  attacked,  a  retreat  or  a  rout  was  in 
evitable.  We  (the  Board  of  War)  had  exhausted  all  the  lead 
accessible  to  us,  having  caused  even  the  spouts  of  houses  to 
be  melted,  and  had  offered  abortively  the  equivalent,  in  paper, 
of  two  shillings  specie  per  pound  for  lead.  I  went,  in  the  even 
ing  of  the  day  in  which  I  received  this  letter,  to  a  splendid 
entertainment  given  by  Don  Mirailles,  the  Spanish  minister. 
My  heart  was  sad ;  but  I  had  the  faculty  of  brightening  my 
countenance  even  under  gloomy  disasters,  yet  it  seems  then 
not  sufficiently  adroitly.  Mr.  Morris,  who  was  one  of  the 
guests,  and  knew  me  well,  discovered  some  casual  traits  of 
depression.  He  accosted  me  in  his  usual  blunt  and  disengaged 
manner  :  "  I  see  some  clouds  passing  across  the  sunny  coun 
tenance  you  assume.  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  After  some  hesi 
tation,  I  showed  him  the  general's  letter,  which  I  had  brought 
from  the  office  with  the  intention  of  placing  it  at  home  in  a 


2/8  PENNS  YL  VANIA. 

private  cabinet.  He  played  with  my  anxiety,  which  he  did  not 
relieve,  for  some  time.  At  length,  however,  with  great  and 
sincere  delight,  he  called  me  aside,  and  told  me  that  the 
"  Holker,"  privateer,  had  just  arrived  at  his  wharf  with  ninety 
tons  of  lead,  which  she  had  brought  as  ballast.  It  had  been 
landed  at  Martinique,  and  stone  ballast  had  supplied  its  place  ; 
but  this  had  been  put  on  shore,  and  the  lead  again  taken  in. 
"  You  shall  have  my  half  of  this  fortunate  supply.  There  are 
the  owners  of  the  other  half,"  indicating  gentlemen  in  the  apart 
ment.  "  Yes  ;  but  I  am  already  under  heavy  personal  engage 
ments,  as  guaranty  for  the  Department,  to  those  and  other 
gentlemen."  —  "Well,  rejoined  Mr.  Morris,  "they  will  take 
your  assumption  with  my  guaranty."  I  instantly,  on  these 
terms,  secured  the  lead,  left  the  entertainment,  sent  for  the 
proper  officers,  and  set  more  than  one  hundred  people  to  work 
through  the  night.  Before  morning,  a  supply  of  cartridges  was 
ready,  and  sent  off  to  the  army. 

It  may  not  be  generally  known ;  but  it  is  an  incontroverti 
ble  fact,  that  the  plan  of  the  campaign  for  the  year  1781,  as 
agreed  upon  by  Gen.  Washington  and  Admiral  De  Grasse, 
was  to  aim  at  the  reduction  of  New  York,  and  that  the  South 
ern  enterprise  was  never  contemplated,  until  unexpectedly, 
and  to  his  extreme  surprise,  Gen.  Washington  (by  the  French 
admiral's  breaking  his  engagements  to  come  into  New  York 
Bay,  and  announcing  his  intention,  through  the  admiral  com 
manding  the  squadron  at  Rhode  Island,  to  enter  and  remain 
for  a  few  weeks  in  the  Chesapeake)  was  obliged  to  change 
the  whole  plan  of  operations,  which,  from  the  powerful  re 
sources  of  his  mind,  he  planned  and  performed  in  a  sudden 
and  masterly  manner.  An  account  had  be^n  published,  by 
which  it  appears  that  the  Count  Rochambeau  claimed  the 
credit  of  planning  the  enterprise  a  year  before  it  was  put  in 
execution.  A  military  character  who  had  rendered  such  im 
portant  services  to  our  country  as  were,  by  universal  consent, 
attributed  to  him,  needed  no  borrowed  plume.  He  avows  his 
having  advised  Count  de  Grasse  not  to  venture  into  New 
York  Bay.  He  should  (had  he  acted  consistently  with  his 


ANECDOTES  OF  ROBERT  MORRIS.  2/9 

duty),  with  candor,  and  in  due  season,  have  made  this  com 
munication  to  Gen.  Washington  :  whereas,  the  first  intimation 
of  a  change  of  the  original  plan  was  the  French  admiral's 
letter  from  Rhode  Island,  which  the  general  put  into  my 
hands  a  few  hours  after  he  had  received  it,  with  strong  ex 
pressions  of  surprise  and  resentment.  Assuredly,  at  this 
period,  the  expedition  to  the  southward  had  never  been 
thought  of;  but,  as  Count  Rochambeau's  countervailing  ad 
vice  had  been  attended  with  successful  consequences,  he 
adroitly  takes  advantage  of  this  good-fortune,  and  turns  an 
otherwise  unjustifiable  interference  into  personal  merit.  I 
was  sent  by  Congress,  under  the  belief  that  New  York  was 
the  object,  to  consult  with  Gen.  Washington  on  the  supplies 
necessary  for  the  attack ;  but  the  apprehension  expressed 
by  Count  De  Grasse,  of  danger  to  his  heavy  ships,  should 
they  enter  the  bay,  and  the  avowal  of  his  intention  to  sail  for 
the  Chesapeake,  put  at  once  an  end  to  deliberation  on  the 
subject.  A  new  object  was  now  to  be  sought  for,  on  which 
the  co-operation  of  the  allies  might  be  employed  with  effect. 
I  was  present  when  the  Southern  enterprise  was  resolved  on 
(claiming  no  merit  or  agency  in  the  military  part  of  it),  and 
superintended  the  provision  of  every  thing  required  by  the 
general  for  the  operation.  From  seventy  to  eighty  pieces  of 
battering-cannon,  and  one  hundred  of  field-artillery,  were 
completely  fitted  and  furnished  with  attirail  and  ammunition  ; 
although,  when  I  returned  from  camp  to  Philadelphia,  there 
was  not  a  field-carriage  put  together,  and  but  a  small  quantity 
of  fixed  ammunition  in  our  magazines.  The  train  was  pro 
gressively  sent  on  in  three  or  four  weeks,  to  the  great  honor 
of  the  officers  and  the  men  employed  in  this  meritorious  ser 
vice.  All  this,  together  with  the  expense  of  provision  for 
and  pay  of  the  troops,  was  accomplished  on  the  personal 
credit  of  Mr.  Robert  Morris,  ivho  issued  his  notes  to  the 
amount  of  one  million,  four  hundred  thousand  dollars,  which 
were  finally  all  paid.  Assistance  was  furnished  by  Virginia 
and  other  States,  from  the  merit  whereof  I  mean  not  to  de 
tract  ;  but  as  there  was  no  money  in  the  chest  of  the  War 


2  8O  PEWNS  YL  VANIA. 

Office,  and  the  treasury  of  the  United  States  empty,  the  ex 
pedition  never  could  have  been  operative,  and  brought  to  a 
successful  issue,  had  not,  most  fortunately,  Mr.  Morris's 
credit,  superior  exertions,  and  management,  supplied  the  indis 
pensable  sine  qua  non,  —  the  funds  necessary  to  give  effect 
to  exertion. 

LITERARY  CARTRIDGES. 

To  the  instances  given  by  Judge  Peters  of  the  happy 
arrival  of  supplies  for  the  army  at  the  moment  that  they  were 
most  needed,  I  would  add  another  occurrence  derived  from 
the  same  authority.  On  our  entering  Philadelphia,  in  June, 
1778,  after  the  evacuation  by  the  British  troops,  we  were  hard 
pressed  for  ammunition.  We  caused  the  whole  city  to  be 
ransacked  in  search  of  cartridge-paper.  At  length  I  thought 
of  the  garrets,  £c.,  of  old  printing-offices.  In  that  once 
occupied  as  a  lumber-room  by  Dr.  Franklin  when  a  printer,  a 
vast  collection  was  discovered.  Among  the  mass  was  more 
than  a  cart-body  load  of  Sermons  on  Defensive  War,  preached 
by  a  famous  Gilbert  Tenant,  during  an  old  British  and  French 
war,  to  rouse  the  Colonists  to  indispensable  exertion.  These 
appropriate  manifestoes  were  instantly  employed  as  cases  for 
musket-cartridges,  rapidly  sent  to  the  army,  came  most  oppor 
tunely,  and  were  fired  away  at  the  battle  of  Monmouth  against 
our  retiring  foe. 

BARON  STEUBEN. 

A  friend,  on  the  accuracy  of  whose  statements  I  can  con 
fidently  rely,  told  me  that  it  could  not  easily  be  conceived  to 
what  severe  trial  the  patience  of  the  baron  was  put  in  his  first 
efforts  to  establish  a  regular  system  of  discipline  ;  and  that, 
on  one  occasion,  having  exhausted  all  his  German  and  French 
oaths,  he  vociferated  to  his  aide-de-camp,  Major  Walker, 
"  Vieu  Walker  —  vieu,  mon  bon  ami.  Curse  —  da?nn  de 
gaucherie  of  dese  badauts,  je  ne  puts  plus.  I  can  curse  dem 
no  more." 

In  private  life,  his  virtues  were  exalted  ;  and  it  would  be 
difficult  to  determine  whether  he  most  excites  our  admiration 
for  zeal  and  activity  as  a  patriot  and  soldier,  or  tenderness 


BARON  STEUBEN.  28 1 

and  humanity  as  a  man.  As  I  hold  his  character  in  high 
veneration,  I  have  great  delight  in  relating  an  anecdote  which 
I  received  from  Gen.  Walter  Stewart,  the  truth  of  which  may 
be  confidently  relied  on.  After  the  capture  of  Yorktown,  the 
superior  officers  of  the  allied  army  vied  with  each  other  in 
acts  of  civility  and  attention  to  the  captive  Britons.  Lord 
Cornwallis  and  his  family  were  particularly  distinguished. 
Entertainments  were  given  in  succession  by  all  the  major- 
generals,  with  the  exception  of  Baron  Steuben.  He  alone 
withheld  an  invitation,  not  from  a  wish  to  be  particular,  nor. 
that  his  heart  was  closed  to  the  attentions  due  to  misfortune. 
His  soul  was  superior  to  prejudice  ;  and  as  a  soldier  he 
tenderly  sympathized  in  their  fate,  while  poverty  denied  the 
means  of  displaying  that  liberality  towards  them  which  had 
been  shown  by  others.  Such  was  his  situation,  when,  calling 
on  Col.  Stewart,  and  informing  him  of  his  intention  to  enter 
tain  the  British  commander-in-chief,  he  requested  that  he 
would  advance  him  a  sum  of  money  as  the  price  of  his 
favorite  charger.  "'Tis  a  good  beast,"  said  the  baron,  "and 
has  proved  a  faithful  servant  through  all  the  dangers  of  the 
war;  but,  though  painful  to  my  heart,  we  must  part."  Col. 
Stewart,  to  prevent  a  step  that  he  knew  must  be  attended 
with  great  loss  and  still  greater  inconvenience,  immediately 
tendered  his  purse,  recommending,  should  the  sum  it  con 
tained  prove  insufficient,  the  sale  or  pledge  of  his  watch. 
"  My  dear  friend,"  said  the  baron,  "  'tis  already  sold.  Poor 
N was  sick,  and  wanted  necessaries.  He  is  a  brave  fel 
low,  and  possesses  the  best  of  hearts.  The  trifle  it  brought 
is  set  apart  for  his  use.  My  horse  must  go:  so  no  more,  I 
beseech  you,  to  turn  me  from  my  purpose.  I  am  a  major- 
general  in  the  service  of  the  United  States ;  and  my  private 
convenience  must  not  be  put  in  the  scale  with  the  duty  which 
my  rank  calls  upon  me  imperiously  to  perform." 

The  liberal  disposition  of  Baron  Steuben  afforded  to  his 
aide-de-camp,  Major  North,  an  opportunity  of  making  a  pecu 
liarly  happy  repartee.  On  the  summit  of  a  hill,  on  the  farm 
occupied  by  the  baron,  a  monument  was  erected  to  the  mem- 


282  PENNSYLVANIA. 

ory  of  a  certain  Mr.  Provost,  who,  on  account  of  his  constant 
command  of  cash,  had  been  styled,  when  living,  Ready-Money 
Provost.  A  gentleman  observing,  that,  in  the  event  of  death, 
the  baron  would  be  at  no  loss  for  a  snug  place  of  interment, 
Major  North  replied,  "  Then,  sir,  his  disposition  must  alter 
with  his  state  ;  for  in  life  he  will  never  tolerate  the  idea  of 
laying  by  ready  money." 

Though  poor  himself,  the  baron  had  a  number  of  pension 
ers.  Of  one  of  these  I  must  relate  an  interesting  anecdote. 
When  Arnold  apostatized,  and  attached  himself  to  the  British 
standard,  Baron  Steuben,  at  that  period  inspector-general  of 
the  army,  to  show  his  perfect  abhorrence  of  the  traitor,  com 
manded  that  every  soldier  who  bore  the  name  should  change 
it,  or  be  immediately  dismissed  the  service.  Some  days  after, 
finding  a  soldier  of  Connecticut  who  had  paid  no  attention  to 
the  mandate,  he  insisted  that  he  should  instantaneously  be  ex 
pelled  from  the  ranks.  "  I  am  no  traitor,  my  worthy  general," 
said  the  soldier,  "  and  will  willingly  renounce  a  name  that  the 
perfidy  of  a  scoundrel  has  forever  tarnished,  if  allowed  to 
assume  one  which  is  dear  to  every  American  soldier.  Let 
me  be  Steuben,  and  be  assured  that  I  will  never  disgrace 
you."  —  "  Willingly,  my  worthy  fellow,"  replied  the  baron. 
"  Be  henceforth  Steuben,  and  add  to  the  glory  of  a  name  that 
has  already  acquired  lustre  by  the  partial  adoption  of  a  brave 
man."  The  soldier,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  war,  kept  a 
tavern  in  New  England,  exhibiting  a  representation  of  his 
patron  as  a  sign,  and,  as  long  as  the  baron  lived,  received  a 
pension  from  him  as  a  reward  for  his  partial  attachment. 

The  hospitality  of  Baron  Steuben  was  unbounded.  Intro 
duced  at  his  villa  by  a  friend,  to  whose  exertions  in  Congress 
he  considered  himself  peculiarly  indebted  for  a  pension  settled 
on  him  for  life,  he  treated  me  with  marked  attention,  and,  at 
the  moment  of  my  departure,  said  with  great  politeness  (Sun 
day  being  the  day  on  which  he  kept  open  table  for  his  friends), 
"  Souvenez-vous,  mon  jeune  ami,  pendant  votre  stjoiir  a  New 
York,  que  le  dimanche  est  consacre  a  Dieu  et  a  Steuben  ?  " 

Dining  with   him   shortly  after    the    resignation    of    Mr. 


BARON  STEUBEN.  283 

Robert  Morris  as  financier  of  the  United  States,  the  cause 
of  which  appeared  inexplicable  to  the  company  present,  "  To 
me,"  said  Baron  Steuben,  "  there  appears  no  mystery.  I  will 
illustrate  my  sentiments  by  a  simple  narrative.  When  I  was 
about  to  quit  Paris,  to  embark  for  the  United  States,  the 
better  to  insure  comfort  when  in  camp,  I  judged  it  of  impor 
tance  to  engage  in  my  service  a  cook  of  celebrity.  The 
American  army  was  posted  at  Valley  Forge  when  I  joined  it. 
Arrived  at  my  quarters,  a  wagoner  presented  himself,  saying 
that  he  was  directed  to  attach  himself  to  my  train,  and  obey 
my  orders.  Commissaries  arriving  furnished  a  supply  of 
beef  and  bread,  and  retired.  My  cook  looked  around  him  for 
utensils  indispensable,  in  his  opinion,  for  preparing  a  meal, 
and,  finding  none,  in  an  agony  of  despair  applied  to  the  wag 
oner  for  advice.  '  We  cook  our  meat,'  replied  he,  *  by  hang 
ing  it  up  by  a  string,  and  turning  it  before  a  good  fire  until 
sufficiently  roasted.'  The  next  day,  and  still  another,  passed 
without  material  change.  The  commissary  made  his  deposit. 
My  cook  showed  the  strongest  indications  of  uneasiness  by 
shrugs  and  heavy  sighing,  but,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
oaths,  spoke  not  a  word  of  complaint.  His  patience,  how 
ever,  was  completely  exhausted.  He  requested  an  audience, 
and  demanded  his  dismission.  '  Under  happier  circum 
stances,  man  general?  said  he,  '  it  would  be  my  ambition  to 
serve  you  ;  but  here  I  have  no  chance  of  showing  my  talents  ; 
and  I  think  myself  obliged,  in  honor,  to  save  you  expense, 
since  your  wagoner  is  just  as  able  to  turn  the  string  as  I  am.' 
Believe  me,  gentlemen,"  continued  the  baron,  "the  treasury 
of  America  is  at  present  just  as  empty  as  my  kitchen  was  at 
Valley  Forge  ;  and  Mr.  Morris  wisely  retires,  thinking  it  of 
very  little  consequence  who  turns  the  string" 


THE   SOUTHERN   COLONIES. 


BOUGHT  FOR  A  SONG. 

ADAME  RIEDESEL,  in  her  Journal,  recounts  some 
of  her  experiences  in  Virginia,  where,  with  her 
husband,  she  remained  a  few  weeks  before  their 
final  departure  for  Canada.  Her  husband  had  be 
come  prostrated,  partly  by  physical  debility,  partly  by  mental 
depression.] 

The  use  of  a  certain  bath  in  Virginia,  which  is  called  Frede 
rick  Spring,  was  prescribed  for  him  ;  and  we  accordingly 
journeyed  thither.  I  believe  that  he  increased  his  disorder 
by  always  wetting  his  head  before  bathing ;  and  what  was  still 
worse  was,  that,  in  spite  of  all  we  could  do,  his  hair  would 
remain  damp.  His  fretfulness  continued;  and  the  thought  of 
his  imprisonment  worried  him  more  than  ever.  At  night  he 
could  not  sleep.  I  therefore  hit  upon  the  expedient  of  read 
ing  to  him  in  a  particularly  drowsy  tone.  This  was  success 
ful  ;  for  he  always  went  to  sleep.  His  hands  and  feet  were 
constantly  blue,  and  cold  as  ice.  Whenever  I  thought  that  I 
might  safely  venture  to  lie  down,  his  anguish  would  invariably 
wake  him  up.  Every  thing  irritated  him.  One  day  a  Vir 
ginian  came  into  my  room,  and  said  that  he  was  curious  to 
see  a  German  woman,  eying  me,  at  the  same  time,  from  head 
to  foot.  .  I  was  delighted  at  the  idea  of  enjoying  myself  over 
something.  But  when,  at  his  request,  I  brought  him  to  my 
husband,  the  latter  was  so  moved  at  the  idea  of  his  situation 
284 


A   MARYLAND   COUNTRY-SEAT.  285 

compelling  him  to  be  gazed  upon  at  the  whim  of  this  or  that 
man,  that  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes,  and  I  sincerely  re 
pented  of  having  been  so  inconsiderate. 

We  made  at  Frederick  Spring  the  acquaintance  of  Gen. 
Washington's  family,  and  also  of  Madame  Garel  (a  very  lova 
ble  woman)  and  her  husband.  She  was  an  ardent  Ameri 
can  patriot,  but  reasonable  ;  and  we  became  great  friends. 
She  spent  most  of  the  forenoons  with  us.  At  such  times 
Capt.  Geismar  played  the  violin,  and  I  sang  Italian  airs, 
which  gave  her  the  greatest  delight.  One  day,  while  thus 
engaged,  a  countryman,  from  whom  we  had  endeavored  by 
many  kind  words  to  obtain  fresh  butter,  came  in  upon  us. 
As  the  Americans  generally  are  fond  of  music,  he  listened 
attentively,  and,  when  I  had  finished,  asked  me  to  sing  it  once 
more.  I  asked  him  sportively  what  he  would  give  me  for  it, 
as  I  did  nothing  gratis.  "  Two  pounds  of  butter,"  he  at 
once  answered.  The  idea  pleased  me,  and  I  began  to  sing. 
"  Play  another  one,"  said  he  as  soon  as  I  had  finished,  "  but 
something  lively."  At  length  I  sang  so  much,  that,  the  next 
morning,  he  brought  me  four  or  five  pounds  of  fresh  butter. 
He  also  had  his  wife  with  him,  and  entreated  me  to  sing  once 
more.  I  thus  succeeded  in  winning  their  affection  ;  and  after 
wards  I  lacked  for  nothing.  The  best  of  the  joke  was,  that 
he  actually  believed  I  wished  to  be  paid  for  my  singing,  and 
wondered  much  when  I  paid  him  for  the  butter,  which  he 
supposed  they  had  already  sold. 

The  Virginians  are  generally  inert,  a  fate  which  they  attri 
bute  to  their  hot  climate  ;  but  on  the  slightest  inducement,  in 
a  twinkling,  they  leap  up,  and  dance  about ;  and  if  a  reel  — • 
an  English  or  a  Scotch  national  dance  —  is  played  for  them, 
immediately  the  men  catch  hold  of  the  women,  who  then  jump 
up  as  if  they  were  possessed  ;  but,  as  soon  as  they  are  led 
back  to  their  chairs,  they  sit  on  them  like  blocks  of  wood. 

A  MARYLAND  COUNTRY-SEAT. 

During  our  sojourn  at  this  bath,  my  husband  received  news 
which  gave  us  all  much  pleasure ;  namely,  that  he  and  Gen. 


286  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

Phillips,  with  their  adjutants,  had  permission  to  go  to  New 
York  in  order  to  be  exchanged.  My  husband,  upon  this, 
went  back  to  Colle  to  make  arrangements  for  the  maintenance, 
in  his  absence,  of  the  troops  (the  command  of  which  he 
handed  over  to  Col.  Specht),  and  to  take  measures  for  the  sale 
of  our  superfluous  things,  and  especially  our  new  house, 
which  we  had  as  yet  not  lived  in  ;  in  which  situation,  indeed, 
we  at  various  times  afterwards  found  ourselves.  We  were 
often  troubled  in  this  way ;  for  we  would  come  to  a  place, 
expecting  to  remain  for  some  time,  but  we  would  scarely  get 
our  things  to  rights,  at  infinite  pains,  when  we  would  receive 
an  order  bidding  us  instantly  to  depart.  This  time,  however, 
every  one  was  rejoiced.  I  set  out  from  this  bath  in  the 
month  of  August,  1777,  to  join  my  husband  in  Yorktown, 
Penn.  Madame  Garel,  the  clever  woman  whom  I  have 
already  mentioned,  had  begged  me  to  visit  them  at  their 
country-seat  in  the  Province  of  Maryland,  in  case  we  should 
be  in  the  vicinity.  I  therefore  determined  to  do  it  now. 
Capt.  Freeman,  one  of  my  husband's  English  adjutants,  re 
mained  with  us.  Capt.  Edmonston  had  been  exchanged 
through  the  intercession  of  his  father.  He  was  so  devoted  to 
the  interests  of  my  husband,  and  it  gave  him  so  much  pain 
to  leave  him,  that  the  latter  was  even  obliged  to  persuade  him 
to  return  to  England.  His  departure  affected  us  deeply, 
especially  when  he  said,  "  I  am  certain  that  I  shall  never  see 
you  again." 

On  our  journey  to  the  country-seat  of  Mrs.  Garel,  Capt. 
Freeman  saw  a  black  snake,  —  which,  however,  is  not  danger 
ous,  —  licking  a  frog,  and  swallowing  him  down.  Crying  out 
sportively,  "  I  declare  myself  the  Knight  of  the  Frog,"  he 
drew  his  sword,  and  split  the  snake  open,  when,  lo  !  the  frog 
hopped  out  of  its  stomach,  thoroughly  alive  ;  at  which  we 
all  were  greatly  amazed.  Before  we  arrived,  I  was  overturned 
with  my  wagon,  but  without  the  slightest  injury.  I  had  ad 
vised  Madame  Garel  of  my  arrival ;  and  she  sent  a  man  on 
horseback  to  meet  me.  After  I  had  passed  through  a  very 
pretty  hamlet,  inhabited  by  pure  negroes,  each  of  whom  had 


A   MARYLAND   COUNTRY-SEAT. 

his  garden,  and  understood  some  handicraft,  we  drove 
through  a  large  courtyard,  to  a  very  beautiful  house,  where 
the  whole  family  received  us  with  a  joyful  welcome.  The 
family  consisted  of  an  old  father-in-law,  eighty -four  years  of 
age,  of  a  sprightly  humor  and  the  most  extreme  neatness, 
upon  whose  venerable  countenance  appeared  happy  content 
ment,  four  perfectly  lovely  grandchildren,  and  their  kind, 
beloved  mother,  our  amiable  hostess.  We  were  served  upon 
silver,  and  entertained,  not,  it  is  true,  with  much  display,  but 
with  taste.  Nothing  was  wanting  for  our  comfort.  She  said 
to  me,  that,  as  she  hoped  I  would  remain  with  her  a  long  time, 
she  had  received  me  as  if  I  belonged  to  the  family. 

The  garden  was  magnificent ;  and  on  the  following  day 
she  drove  us  out  to  show  us  her  vineyard,  which  was  splendid, 
and  displayed  great  taste,  in  fact  exceeding  my  expectations. 
First  we  went  through  a  great  fruit-garden.  Then  we  as 
cended  the  vineyard  by  a  winding  path,  which  led  up  to  the 
top  of  the  hill.  Between  every  vine,  a  poplar-rose  and  an 
amaranth  grew.  The  effect  of  this  arrangement  was  to  give 
a  magnificent  appearance  to  every  part  of  the  vineyard,  —  to 
one  looking  down  from  the  top,  such  a  one,  indeed,  that,  for 
beauty,  I  have  not  found  its  equal  in  any  portion  of  America 
which  I  have  seen.  The  husband  of  Madame  Garel  had 
travelled  abroad,  and  had  gathered  these  ideas  of  the  laying- 
out  of  grounds  in  England  and  France.  In  other  respects, 
he  was  not  very  lovable,  but  rather  brusque  and  niggardly, 
and  not  at  all  suited  to  his  wife,  who,  although  she  never 
showed  it  by  outward  signs,  nevertheless  did  not  appear  to  be 
happy.  Her  father-in-law  she  loved  very  much. 

Not  far  from  this  estate  was  a  town  called  Baltimore, 
which  they  told  me  was  very  pretty,  and  inhabited  by  many 
amiable  families.  We  received  a  visit  from  an  intimate  friend 
of  our  hostess.  Both  these  women  reminded  me  of  Rous 
seau's  Heloise  and  her  friend  ;  and  the  old  father,  of  the  hus 
band  of  Heloise.  Madame  Garel  was  as  full  of  tender  feeling 
as  she,  and  would,  I  believe,  have  gladly  had  a  St.  Preux  for 
a  husband.  We  arranged  for  her  a  temple  adorned  with 


288  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

flowers,  after  the  design  of  Capt.  Freeman,  and  dedicated  it 
to  Friendship  and  Gratitude.  She  wrote,  me  some  years  after 
ward,  that  the  family  still  continued  to  trim  it  with  flowers. 
The  lovely,  agreeable  Madame  Garel  is  now  dead ;  and  her 
family,  but  especially  her  children,  have  met  with  a  great 
loss.  We  remained  here  eight  or  ten  days  ;  and  our  parting 
was  very  sad.  They  supplied  us  with  provisions  of  the  best 
quality,  enough  to  last  for  a  long  time.  We,  however,  did  not 
really  need  them,  as  the  Royalists  through  friendly  feeling, 
and  the  others  through  custom,  welcomed  us  kindly,  and  fur 
nished  us  with  every  thing  needful  for  our  sustenance.  In 
this  country,  it  would  be  held  a  crime  to  refuse  hospitality  to 
a  traveller. 

AN  AMERICAN  CINCINNATUS. 

[Major  Garden,  from  whom  we  have  already  quoted,  gives 
most  of  his  reminiscences  and  anecdotes  of  persons  and  events 
in  the  Southern  States  ;  and  it  is  from  his  ana  that  we  give 
the  following.] 

After  the  battle  of  the  Cowpens,  great  industry  was  used  by 
Lord  Cornwallis  to  retake  the  captured  prisoners.  He  was 
unwearied  in  pursuit,  and,  it  was  imagined,  with  considerable 
prospect  of  success.  Under  these  circumstances,  Gen.  Greene 
directed  Dr.  Read  to  repair  with  all  expedition  to  the  residence 
of  Gen.  Lock,  near  Salisbury,  and  tell  him  verbally  that  im 
mediate  exertion  was  necessary,  and  that  he  must  raise,  by  the 
next  day,  one  thousand  men,  to  cover  the  retreat  of  Major 
Hyrne,  to  whose  charge  the  prisoners  were  committed.  Ar 
rived  at  his  house,  Dr.  Read  asked  if  the  general  was  visible. 
"  He  is  at  plough  in  his  field,"  was  the  reply.  "In  what  di 
rection  ? "  said  the  doctor.  "  This  path,"  said  a  bystander, 
"  will  carry  you  to  him."  But  a  short  distance  was  passed 
over,  when  Dr.  Read  met  an  old  man  on  a  sorry  tacky,  with  a 
plough  before  him,  to  whom  he  said,  "  Tell  me,  friend,  where 
I  can  find  Gen.  Lock."  —  "  Come  with  me,"  was  the  reply, 
"  and  I  will  carry  you  to  him."  The  route  was  now  retrograde, 
and  led  toward  the  house.  When  the  doctor  arrived  there, 
believing  that  he  was  trifled  with,  he  said  in  anger,  "  But  where 


PRIVATIONS  OF  OFFICERS.  289 

is  the  general  ? "  —  "  You  shall  see  him  immediately,"  was  the 
answer.  The  old  man  then  retired  into  a  chamber,  but  returned 
instantaneously  in  a  full  suit  of  regimentals  and  a  large  cocked 
hat,  exclaiming,  "  /  am  Gen.  Lock :  your  business  with  me, 
friend?"  Dr.  Read  immediately  delivered  his  message  ;  when 
the  old  man  replied,  "It  shall  be  done  !  "  and  immediately 
sending  off  his  servants,  with  orders  to  his  officers  to  summon 
their  men  for  duty,  actually  joined  Hyrne  the  next  morning 
(who  had  five  hundred  men  of  the  Seventy-first  British  Regi 
ment  in  charge)  with  a  corps  of  one  thousand  mounted  rifle 
men. 

PRIVATIONS  OF  OFFICERS. 

An  officer  of  rank  belonging  to  our  army,  severely  wounded 
at  Gates's  defeat,  informed  me,  that,  as  he  passed  over  the  field 
of  battle  in  the  wagon  which  was  to  convey  him  to  Camden,  a 
sergeant  of  the  Thirty-third  British  Regiment,  looking  into  it 
with  an  expression  of  generous  sympathy,  said,  "  You  appear, 
sir,  severely  injured,  and  much  exhausted  by  the  loss  of  blood. 
Take  my  canteen :  its  contents  may  revive  and  strengthen  you." 
An  expression  of  compassionate  feeling,  at  all  times  fascinat 
ing,  could  not  at  such  a  period  be  received  but  with  peculiar 
gratitude.  The  gift  was  accepted,  and  contained  wine  of  an 
excellent  quality.  Let  me  suppose  that  other  soldiers  were 
supplied  with  liquor  as  liberally  as  this  benevolent  sergeant, 
and  how  great  the  contrast  with  the  condition  of  our  unfortu 
nates,  who,  for  many  days  previous  to  the  battle,  had  not,  even 
under  the  pressure  of  their  greatest  fatigues,  been  cheered  with 
a  single  glass  of  spirits.  Dr.  William  Read,  superintending 
the  Continental  Hospital  at  Hillsborough  subsequent  to  the 
defeat  at  Camden,  making  a  representation  to  Gen.  Gates  of 
the  deplorable  condition  of  the  sick  and  wounded,  was  asked 
by  him,  "  What  have  you  to  comfort  them  ?  "  —  "  Literally 
nothing,"  replied  Dr.  Read.  "  Then,"  rejoined  the  general, 
"their  situation  is  truly  deplorable;  since  I  neither  possess 
the  means  of  yielding  present  relief,  nor  immediate  prospect 
of  affording  any." 

Even  to  those  who  still  retained  their  health,  the  loss  of 


THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

baggage  was  attended  with  incalculable  increase  of  calamity. 
1'he  comfort  of  a  necessary  change  of  linen  was  denied ; 
and  more  than  one  officer,  from  the  impossibility  of  appear 
ing  with  decency  on  parade,  was  compelled  altogether  to 
avoid  it. 

Of  the  deplorable  situation  of  the  Continental  officers,  even 
of  the  highest  grade,  some  idea  may  be  formed  from  the  fact 
I  am  about  to  relate,  and  which  may  be  relied  on  as  perfectly 
correct.  Dr.  Fayssoux,  joining  the  army  of  Gen.  Greene  in 
North  Carolina,  called  at  the  hut  of  Gen.  Huger,  the  second 
in  command,  but  was  refused  admission.  The  doctor  insisted 
on  his  right  to  enter  :  the  sentinel,  in  conformity  to  his  orders, 
denied  it.  The  altercation  was  heard  by  the  general,  who, 
recognizing  the  voice  of  his  friend,  desired  that  he  might  be 
allowed  to  pass  into  the  hut.  "  Pardon  me,  doctor,"  said  the 
general,  who  lay  on  the  ground,  wrapped  up  in  an  old  military 
cloak,  "  for  giving  you  so  ungracious  a  reception ;  but  the 
fact  is,  the  chances  of  war  have  robbed  me  of  every  comfort, 
and  I  confined  myself  to  solitude  and  an  old  cloak  while  my 
washerwoman  prepares  for  a  future  occasion  the  only  shirt  I 
own."  If  an  officer  of  distinguished  rank,  universally  beloved 
and  respected,  for  whose  accommodation  there  was  not  an 
individual  in  the  service  who  would  not  have  made  sacrifices, 
was  thus  circumstanced,  what  must  have  been  the  miseries  of 
the  lower  grades,  and  wretchedness  of  the  private  sentinels  ? 
Applying  to  a  gentleman,  on  the  accuracy  of  whose  informa 
tion  I  could  place  the  most  implicit  confidence,  relative  to  the 
sufferings  of  the  army  after  the  battle  of  Guilford,  he  replied, 
"  I  have  known  the  whole  army  subsist  for  several  days  on 
Indian  corn,  grated  down  on  tin  canteens,  in  which  holes  had 
been  punched  for  the  occasion,  having  no  other  subsistence  of 
bread  kind ;  every  mill  having  been  destroyed  by  the  enemy. 
This  was  particularly  the  case  during  the  pursuit  of  the  army 
of  Cornwallis  retiring  upon  Wilmington,  when  such  was  the 
extremity  of  suffering  from  the  want  of  animal  food,  that  the 
Continental  soldiers  were  feign  to  put  up  with  the  offal  left  in 
the  slaughter-pens  of  the  retreating  army.  Of  our  privations 


MANNING'S  PRESENCE   OF  MIND.  29 1 

relative  to  the  comforts  of  necessary  clothing  against  the 
inclemencies  of  a  vigorous  season,  I  can  with  truth  assure 
you,  that,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  winter,  I  shared  with  Gen. 
Huger  and  Col.  Kosciusko  an  old  cloak  of  the  general's,  being 
without  a  blanket,  or  any  other  protection  whatever." 

From  long  marches,  incessant  fatigue,  and  scanty  and 
unwholesome  food,  the  diseases  which  prevailed  had,  for  the 
most  part,  a  malignant  tendency ;  and  stimulants  were  con 
sidered  as  essential  to  counteract  the  threatening  symptoms. 
Wine,  spirit,  and  the  medicines  that  were  most  requisite,  were 
not  to  be  procured  ;  and  on  decoctions  of  snake-root  alone,  to 
obtain  which  the  whole  country  was  ransacked,  depended  the 
chance  to  the  afflicted  of  recovery.  Where  surgery  was 
necessary  to  give  relief,  the  difficulty  to  the  operator  was  no 
less  distressing.  When  the  gallant  Capt.  Watts  of  Washing 
ton's  fell  at  Eutaw,  a  ball  having  passed  through  his  lungs, 
Dr.  Irvine  assured  me  that  he  was  compelled  to  cut  up  a  tent 
found  on  the  field  to  make  bandages,  before  he  could  dress 
his  wounds.  On  another  occasion,  I  knew  a  gentleman  at 
tached  to  the  medical  department,  whose  anxious  mother,  at 
the  moment  of  his  departure  for  the  army,  apprehending  acci 
dent  to  himself,  slipped  six  rolls  of  bandages  into  his  port 
manteau,  and  who  assured  me  that,  a  smart  engagement 
speedily  following,  none  other  were  to  be  found  for  the  relief 
of  the  wounded  than  the  bandages  in  his  possession.  The 
evidence  of  the  medical  gentlemen  who  still  survive,  Drs. 
Read,  Irvine,  Broomfield,  and  Stephens,  if  it  were  necessary 
to  call  for  it,  would  fully  corroborate  the  statement  made  of 
the  total  want  of  the  supplies  essential  to  the  support  of 
exhausted  nature.  And  in  more  than  one  instance  I  have 
myself  beheld  the  hardy  veteran  sink  into  his  grave,  to  whom 
even  a  small  portion  of  renovating  wine  or  cordial  might  have 
restored  sufficient  vigor  to  resist  the  fatal  pressure  of  the 
disease. 

MANNING'S  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 

The  intrigues  and  efforts  of  Lord  Cornwallis  to  excite  in 
surrection,  backed  by  a  very  formidable  force,  had  produced 


THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

among  the  Highland  emigrants  a  spirit  of  revolt,  which  it 
required  all  the  energies  of  Gen.  Greene  to  counteract  before 
it  could  be  matured.  The  zeal  and  activity  of  Lieut.-Col.  Lee, 
whose  usefulness  exceeded  calculation,  united  to  his  acute- 
ness,  and  happy  talent  of  obtaining  intelligence  of  every  move 
ment,  and  of  the  most  secret  intentions  of  the  enemy,  pointed 
him  out  as  the  fittest  man  for  this  important  service.  He  was 
accordingly  selected,  with  orders  to  impede  the  intercourse  of 
Lord  Cornwallis  with  the  disaffected,  to  repress  every  symp 
tom  of  revolt,  and  promptly  to  cut  off  every  party  that  should 
take  up  arms  for  Britain.  Constantly  on  the  alert,  he  was  equally 
solicitous  to  give  security  to  his  own  command,  while  he 
harassed  the  enemy.  A  secure  position  was  on  one  occasion 
taken  near  a  forked  road,  one  division  of  which  led  directly 
to  Lord  Cornwallis's  camp,  about  six  miles  distant.  The 
ground  was  chosen  in  the  dusk  of  evening ;  and,  to  prevent 
surprise,  patrols  of  cavalry  were  kept  out  on  each  fork  during 
the  night.  An  order  for  a  movement  before  day  had  been 
communicated  to  every  individual,  and  was  executed  with 
so  little  noise  and  confusion,  that  Lieut.  Manning,  waking  at 
early  dawn,  found  himself,  excepting  one  soldier,  left  alone. 
Stephen  Green,  the  attendant  of  Capt.  Cams,  lay  near  him, 
resting  on  the  portmanteau  cf  his  superior,  and  buried  in  pro 
found  sleep.  Being  awakened,  he  was  ordered  to  mount  and 
follow,  while  Manning,  hastening  towards  the  fork,  hoped  to 
fall  upon  the  track,  and  speedily  rejoin  his  regiment.  Much 
rain  had  fallen  during  the  night  ;  so  that,  finding  both  roads 
equally  cut  up,  Manning  chose  at  hazard,  and  took  the  wrong 
one.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  before  he  saw  at  the  door  of 
a  log-house  a  rifleman  leaning  on  his  gun,  and,  apparently, 
placed  as  a  sentinel.  Galloping  up  to  him,  he  inquired  if  a 
regiment  of  horse,  and  body  of  infantry,  had  passed  that  way. 
"  Oh,  no  !  "  cried  the  man  (whistling  loudly,  which  brought 
out  a  dozen  others,  completely  armed,  and  carrying  each  a  red 
rag  in  his  hat) :  "  you,  I  suppose,  are  one  of  Greene's  men." 
The  badge  which  they  bore  marked  their  principles.  Without 
the  slightest  indication  of  alarm,  or  even  hesitation,  Manning 


MANNING  'S  PRESENCE   OF  MIND.  293 

pointed  to  the  portmanteau  carried  by  Green,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Hush,  my  good  fellow  !  no  clamor,  for  God's  sake  !  I  have 
there  what  will  ruin  Greene.  Point  out  the  road  to  Lord 
Cornwallis's  army  ;  for  all  depends  upon  early  intelligence  of 
its  contents."  —  "  You  are  an  honest  fellow  "  (was  the  general 
cry),  "  and  have  left  the  rebels  just  in  time ;  for  the  whole  set 
tlement  are  in  arms  to  join  Col.  Pyle  to-morrow"  (naming  the 
place  of  rendezvous),  "  where  Col.  Tarleton  will  meet  and  con 
duct  us  to  camp."  —  "  Come,"  said  the  man  to  whom  he  had 
first  spoken,  "  take  a  drink  :  '  Here's  confusion  to  Greene,  and 
success  to  the  king  and  his  friends.'  This  is  the  right  road ; 
and  you  will  soon  reach  the  army,  or,  rather,  let  me  conduct 
you  to  it  myself." — "  Not  for  the  world,  my  dear  fellow!" 
replied  Manning.  "  Your  direction  is  plain  ;  and  I  can  follow 
it.  I  will  never  consent  that  a  faithful  subject  of  his  Majesty 
should  be  subjected  to  the  dangers  of  captivity  or  death  on 
my  account.  If  we  should  fall  in  with  a  party  of  rebels,  and 
we  cannot  say  that  they  are  not  in  the  neighborhood  now,  we 
should  both  lose  our  lives.  I  should  be  hanged  for  desertion ; 
and  you,  for  aiding  me  to  reach  the  British  army."  This 
speech  produced  the  effect  he  desired.  The  libation  con 
cluded,  Manning  rode  off,  amid  the  cheers  of  the  company, 
and,  when  out  of  sight,  crossed  to  the  other  road,  and  ur 
ging  his  horse  to  full  speed,  in  a  short  time  overtook  and 
communicated  the  interesting  intelligence  to  his  commander. 
Lee  was  then  meditating  an  attack  upon  Tarleton,  who  had 
crossed  the  Haw  River  to  support  the  insurgents  ;  but,  per 
ceiving  the  vast  importance  of  crushing  the  revolt  in  the  bud, 
he  informed  Gen.  Greene  of  his  plan  by  a  confidential  mes 
senger,  and  hastened  to  the  point  of  rendezvous,  where  Pyle, 
with  upwards  of  four  hundred  men,  had  already  arrived.  It 
is  unnecessary  to  detail  the  sanguinary  scene  which  followed. 
Pyle,  completely  deceived,  and,  to  the  last,  believing  the 
Legionary  Dragoons  the  soldiers  of  Tarleton,  was  overpow 
ered,  and,  with  a  considerable  portion  of  his  force,  became 
victims  of  credulity. 

Many  other  proofs  could  be  adduced  of  Manning's  pres- 


294  THE   SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

ence  of  mind,  and  cool  intrepidity  in  action.  It  is  grateful 
to  me  to  mention  one  of  these.  At  the  battle  of  Eutaw,  after 
the  British  line  had  been  broken,  and  the  Old  Buffs,  a  regi 
ment  that  had  boasted  of  the  extraordinary  feats  that  they 
were  to  perform,  were  running  from  the  field,  Manning,  in 
the  enthusiasm  of  that  valor  for  which  he  was  so  eminently 
distinguished,  sprang  forward  in  pursuit,  directing  the  pla 
toon  which  he  commanded  to  follow  him.  He  did  not  cast 
an  eye  behind  him  until  he  found  himself  near  a  large  brick 
house,  into  which  the  York  Volunteers,  commanded  by  Cru- 
ger,  were  retiring.  The  British  were  on  all  sides  of  him, 
and  not  an  American  soldier  nearer  than  one  hundred  and 
fifty  or  two  hundred  yards.  He  did  not  hesitate  a  moment, 
but,  springing  at  an  officer  who  was  near  him,  seized  him  by 
the  collar,  and  exclaiming  in  a  harsh  tone  of  voice,  "  Damn 
you,  sir !  you  are  my  prisoner,"  wrested  his  sword  from  his 
grasp,  dragged  him  by  force  from  the  house,  and,  keeping  his 
body  as  a  shield  of  defence  from  the  heavy  fire  sustained 
from  the  windows,  carried  him  off  without  receiving  any 
injury.  Manning  has  often  related,  that,  at  the  moment  when 
he  expected  that  his  prisoner  would  have  made  an  effort  for 
liberty,  he,  with  great  solemnity,  commenced  an  enumeration 
of  his  titles  :  "  I  am,  sir,  Henry  Barry,  Deputy  Adjutant 
General  of  the  British  Army,  Captain  in  the  Fifty-second 
Regiment,  Secretary  to  the  Commandant  of  Charleston."  — 
"Enough,  enough,  sir,"  said  the  victor:  "you  are  just  the 
man  I  was  looking  for.  Fear  nothing  for  your  life  :  you  shall 
screen  me  from  danger,  and  I  will  take  special  care  of  you" 
He  had  retired  in  this  manner  some  distance  from  the  brick 
house,  when  he  saw  Capt.  Robert  Joiett  of  the  Virginia  line, 
engaged  in  single  combat  with  a  British  officer.  They  had 
selected  each  other  for  battle  a  little  before ;  the  American 
armed  with  a  broad-sword,  the  Briton  with  a  musket  and 
bayonet.  As  they  came  together,  a  thrust  was  made  at 
Joiett,  which  he  happily  parried;  and  both  dropping  their 
artificial  weapons,  being  too  much  in  contact  to  use  them  with 
effect,  resorted  to  those  with  which  they  had  been  furnished 


COLONEL  PETER  HORRY.  2Q5 

by  Nature.  They  were  both  men  of  great  bulk  and  vigor ;  and 
while  struggling,  each  anxious  to  bring  his  adversary  to  the 
ground,  a  grenadier,  who  saw  the  contest,  ran  to  the  assist 
ance  of  his  officer,  made  a  longe  with  his  bayonet,  missed 
Joiett's  body,  but  drove  it  beyond  the  curve  into  his  coat. 
In  attempting  to  withdraw  the  entangled  weapon,  he  threw 
both  the  combatants  to  the  ground ;  when,  getting  it  free,  he 
raised  it  deliberately,  determined  not  to  fail  again  in  his  pur 
pose,  but  to  transfix  Joiett.  It  was  at  this  crisis  that  Man 
ning  approached,  not  near  enough,  however,  to  reach  the 
grenadier  with  his  arm.  In  order  to  gain  time,  and  to  arrest 
the  stroke,  he  exclaimed  in  an  angry  and  authoritative  tone, 
"  You  damned  brute  !  will  you  murder  the  gentleman  ? "  The 
soldier,  supposing  himself  addressed  by  one  of  his  own 
officers,  suspended  the  contemplated  blow,  and  looked  around 
to  see  the  person  who  had  thus  spoken  to  him.  Before  he 
could  recover  from  the  surprise  into  which  he  had  been 
thrown,  Manning,  now  sufficiently  near,  smote  him  with  his 
sword  across  the  eyes,  and  felled  him  to  the  ground ;  while 
Joiett,  disengaged  himself  from  his  opponent,  and,  snatching 
up  the  musket  as  he  attempted  to  rise,  laid  him  dead  by  a 
blow  from  the  butt-end  of  it.  Manning  was  of  inferior  size, 
but  strong  and  remarkably  well  formed  ;  Joiett,  literally  speak 
ing,  a  giant.  This,  probably,  led  Barry,  who  could  not  have 
wished  the  particulars  of  his  capture  to  be  commented  on,  to 
reply,  when  asked  by  his  brother-officers  how  he  came  to  be 
taken,  "  I  was  overpowered  by  a  huge  Virginian." 

COLONEL  PETER  HORRY. 

This  officer  was  a  descendant  of  one  of  the  many  Protes 
tant  families  who  removed  to  Carolina  from  France  after  the 
revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  He  early  took  up  arms  in 
defence  of  his  country,  and,  through  all  the  trials  of  peril  and 
privation  experienced  by  Marion's  brigade,  gave  ample  proof 
of  his  strict  integrity  and  undaunted  courage.  The  fame 
which  he  acquired  as  one  of  the  band  of  heroes  who  defended 
the  post  at  Sullivan's  Island  was  never  tarnished.  For 


296  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

although,  in  a  moment  of  despondency,  he  once  said  to  his 
general,  "  I  fear  our  happy  days  are  all  gone  by,"  it  was  not 
the  consequences  that  might  accrue  to  himself,  but  the  mis 
eries  apprehended  for  his  country,  that  caused  the  exclama 
tion  ;  for  never  were  his  principles  shaken :  never,  even  for 
a  moment,  did  the  thought  of  submission  enter  his  bosom. 
No  man  more  eagerly  sought  the  foe  ;  none  braved  danger 
with  greater  intrepidity,  or  more  strenuously  endeavored  to 
sustain  the  military  reputation  of  his  country.  A  ludicrous 
story  is  told  of  him,  that,  though  probably  varied  in  the 
narration,  has  its  foundation  in  truth.  Col.  Horry  was  once 
ordered  to  wait  the  approach  of  a  British  detatchment  in 
ambuscade,  —  a  service  he  performed  with  such  skill,  that  he 
had  them  completely  within  his  power  ;  when  from  a  dreadful 
impediment  in  his  speech,  by  which  he  was  afflicted,  he  could 
not  articulate  the  word  "Fire!"  In  vain  he  made  the  attempt : 
it  was  "  Fi,fi,fi,fi!  "  but  he  could  get  no  further.  At  length, 
irritated  almost  to  madness,  he  exclaimed,  "Shoot,  damn  you  ! 
shoot  /  You  know  very  well  what  I  would  say.  Shoot,  shoot, 
and  be  damn'd  to  you !  "  He  was  present  in  every  engagement 
of  consequence,  and  on  all  occasions  increased  his  reputation. 
At  Ouimby,  Col.  Baxter,  a  gallant  soldier,  possessed  of  great 
coolness,  and  still  greater  simplicity  of  character,  calling  out, 
"  I  am  wounded,  colonel,"  Horry  replied,  "  Think  no  more  of 
it,  Baxter,  but  stand  to  your  post."  —  "  But  I  can't  stand,  colo 
nel  :  I  am  wounded  a  second  time  !  "  —  "  Then  lie  down,  Bax 
ter ;  but  quit  not  your  post."  —  "  Colonel,"  cried  the  wounded 
man,  "  they  have  shot  me  again  ;  and,  if  I  remain  any  longer 
here,  I  shall  be  shot  to  pieces."  —  "  Be  it  so,  Baxter  ;  but  stir 
not."  He  obeyed  the  order,  and  actually  received  a  fourth 
wound  before  the  engagement  ended. 

DR.  SKINNER. 

I  had,  during  the  last  campaign  in  the  South,  continued 
opportunity  of  witnessing  the  eccentricities  of  this  extraor 
dinary  character ;  but  while  I  admired  his  facetious  and 
entertaining  conversation,  his  exquisite  humor,  and  occasional 


DR.   SKINNER. 

exhibition  of  sportive  or  pointed  irony,  I  could  not  but  con 
sider  him  as  a  very  dangerous  companion.  Col.  Lee  has 
stated  that  he  had  a  dire  objection  to  the  field  of  battle,  yet, 
in  private  society,  was  always  ready  for  a  quarrel.  It  might  be 
truly  asserted  that  it  required  infinite  circumspection  not  to 
come  to  points  with  him,  since  he  really  appeared  to  consider 
tilting  as  a  pleasing  pastime,  and  was  (as  an  Irish  soldier  once 
said  of  him)  "an  honest  fellow,  just  as  ready  to  fight  as  eat." 
In  his  regiment,  and  among  his  intimates,  he  was  regarded  as 
a  privileged  man,  and  allowed  to  throw  the  shafts  of  his  wit 
with  impunity.  This  was  a  fortunate  circumstance,  as  he 
would  at  any  time  rather  have  risked  the  loss  of  his  friend 
than  the  opportunity  of  applying  a  satirical  observation  in 
point.  When  first  he  appeared  in  the  lower  country,  he  wore 
a  long  beard  and  huge  fur  cap  ;  the  latter  through  necessity, 
the  first  from  some  superstitious  notion  the  meaning  of  which 
it  was  impossible  to  penetrate.  An  officer  who  really  esteemed 
him,  asking  him  why  he  suffered  his  beard  to  grow  to  such  an 
unusual  length,  he  tartly  replied,  "  It  is  a  secret,  sir,  betwixt 
my  God  and  myself,  that  human  impertinence  shall  never 
penetrate."  On  a  night  alarm  at  Ninety-six,  as  Col.  Lee  was 
hastening  forward  to  ascertain  the  cause,  he  met  Skinner  in 
full  retreat,  and,  stopping  him,  said,  "  What  is  the  matter, 
doctor  ?  Whither  so  fast  ?  Not  frightened,  I  hope  ?  "  —  "  No, 
colonel,  no,"  replied  Skinner,  "  not  absolutely  frightened  ;  but, 
I  candidly  confess,  most  damnably  alarmed."  His  strong 
resemblance  to  the  character  of  Falstaff,  which  Col.  Lee  has 
also  noticed,  was  very  remarkable.  "  He  was  witty  himself, 
and  the  cause  of  wit  in  others."  Like  the  fat  knight,  too, 
in  the  calculation  of  chances,  not  over  scrupulous  in  distinc 
tions  betwixt  meum  and  tuum,  and  I  should  decidedly  say, 
in  his  narrations  of  broils  and  battles,  too  much  under  the 
influence  of  Shrewsbury  clock.  I  have  seldom  met  with  a 
man  more  fond  of  good  and  dainty  cheer,  or  a  more  devoted 
idolater  of  good  wine  ;  but,  when  they  were  not  to  be  met 
with,  the  plainest  food  and  most  simple  liquor  were  enjoyed 
with  the  highest  relish.  A  lady  of  the  lower  country,  address- 


2Q8  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

ing  herself  to  a  young  officer  who  had  been  much  accustomed 
to  enjoy  every  species  of  luxury,  asked  how  he  had  supported 
the  privations  experienced  during  the  last  campaign  in  the 
interior,  he  replied,  that  hunger  made  a  simple  rasher  on  the 
coals  as  delicious  as  the  most  sumptuous  fare ;  and,  where 
wine  could  not  be  obtained,  he  relished  whiskey.  "  I  am 
grieved,  my  young  friend,"  said  Skinner  with  great  gravity, 
"  mortified  beyond  expression  to  hear  such  a  declaration  from 
your  lips,  since  it  has  long  been  my  opinion  that  the  man  who 
would  drink  so  mean  a  liquor  as  whiskey  would  steal." 

In  person,  Skinner  was  not  unlike  the  representation  gen 
erally  given  of  Sancho  ;  in  his  government,  exhibiting  extrava 
gant  pretensions  to  state  and  self-consequence.  Nor  was 
he  insensible  to  the  influences  of  the  tender  passion.  He  not 
only  could  love,  but  he  believed  himself  possessed  of  every 
requisite  to  inspire  passion,  particularly  priding  himself  upon 
a  roguish  leer  with  the  eye,  that  he  deemed  irresistible. 
When  disencumbered  of  his  beard,  he  was  presented  at  Sandy 
Hill  (the  point  of  attraction  to  all  the  military)  to  Mrs.  Charles 
Elliott,  the  amiable  and  benevolent  hostess  of  the  mansion. 
The  facetious  Capt.  Cams,  who  was  his  friend  on  the  occasion, 
indulging  his  natural  propensity  to  quiz,  pointed  her  out  to 
Skinner  as  an  object  highly  worth  the  attention  of  a  man  of 
enterprise.  The  bait  was  attractive ;  and  he  bit  at  it  with  the 
eagerness  of  a  hungry  gudgeon.  On  his  first  appearance, 
Skinner  had  shown  evident  marks  of  confusion  on  account  of 
the  uncouth  appearance  of  his  cap.  Mrs.  Elliott  had  perceived 
it,  and,  retiring  for  an  instant,  returned  with  an  elegant  mili 
tary  hat,  which  she  placed  on  his  head,  and,  gracefully  bowing, 
ran  off.  Skinner  was  mute  with  astonishment.  He  looked  at 
the  hat  and  at  the  lady,  and  then  at  the  hat  again,  and,  turning 
to  his  friend,  seemed,  in  the  language  of  Falstaff,  to  say, — 

"  Her  eye  did  seem  to  scorch  me  like  a  burning-glass." 

The  expression  of  his  countenance  was  to  Cams  a  suffi 
cient  indication  of  the  agitation  of  his  bosom.  The  hint  was 


DR.   SKINNER.  299 

not  lost.  "  Well,"  he  feelingly  exclaimed,  "  if  ever  a  broad 
and  palpable  invitation  was  given,  this  certainly  may  be  con 
sidered  as  such.  Why,  Skinner,  what  charm,  what  philter,  do 
you  use  to  produce  such  havoc  ?  "  —  "  Fie,  fie  !  "  said  the  en 
raptured  doctor,  adjusting  his  dress,  and  rising  upon  tip-toe. 
"  Tempt  me  not,  my  friend,  to  make  myself  ridiculous.  Mine 
is  not  a  figure  to  attract  the  attention  of  a  fair  lady  :  it  cannot, 
cannot  happen  !  "  —  "I  will  not,"  rejoined  Cams,  "  compliment 
you,  Skinner,  on  your  personal  attractions.  You  are  a  man 
of  sense,  a  man  of 'discernment,  too  wise  to  be  flattered  ;  but  I 
certainly  have  seen  men  less  elegantly  formed  than  you  are,  and 
altogether  without  that  je  ne  sais  quoi  so  fascinating,  that  you 
pre-eminently  possess  :  besides,  you  have  a  fine,  open,  healthy 
countenance,  a  prepossessing  smile,  and  a  piodigiously  bril 
liant  and  piercing  eye."  —  "  Ah,  ha !  "  cried  Skinner,  "  have 
you  discovered  that?  You  are  a  man  of  penetration,  a  man 
of  taste !  Yes,  Cams,  I  have  an  eye ;  and  if  it  has  its  usual 
trick,  its  tender  expression  (you  understand  what  I  would  say), 
I  may,  perhaps,  be  happy."  Cams,  for  a  time,  gave  indul 
gence  to  the  effusions  of  his  vanity,  but  would  not  suffer  him 
to  make  himself  completely  ridiculous.  Love  was  very  speedi 
ly  forgotten  ;  and  a  kind  invitation  to  feel  himself  at  home  in 
the  most  hospitable  mansion  in  the  State  made  Skinner  the 
proudest  and  happiest  of  men. 

Falstaff  maintained  that  it  was  proper  for  every  man  "  to 
labor  in  his  vocation."  Skinner  asserted  "that  every  man 
had  his  sphere  of  action,  beyond  the  limits  of  which  he  ought 
never  to  emerge."  "Mine,"  said  he.  "amidst  the  tumults  of 
war,  the  conflicts  of  battle,  is  in  the  rear.  There  I  am  always 
to  be  found.  I  am  firm  at  my  post.  What  did  Matthew 
Irvine  get  by  quitting  his  ?  A  wound,  a  villanous  wound  ! 
Shall  I  follow  his  example,  step  out  of  my  sphere,  and  set 
myself  up  as  a  mark  to  be  shot  at  ?  Oh,  no !  I  am  a  stickler 
for  the  strict  performance  of  duty,  but  feel  no  ambition  to 
shine  beyond  it." 

Being  asked  which  of  the  ladies  of  South  Carolina  pos 
sessed,  in  his  estimation,  the  greatest  attractions,  he  very 


3OO  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

readily  replied,  "  The  widow  Izard,  beyond  all  comparison. 
I  never  pass  her  magnificent  sideboard,  but  the  plate  seems 
ready  to  tumble  into  my  pocket." 

Arriving  near  the  bank  of  the  river,  on  the  night  of  the 
contemplated  attack  upon  John's  Island,  he  was  asked  wheth 
er  he  intended  to  pass  the  ford. 

"  By  no  means  !  "  replied  Skinner.  "  I  am  not  fond  of 
romantic  enterprise,  and  will  not  seek  for  perilous  achieve 
ments  where  the  elements,  more  than  the  enemy,  are  to  be 
dreaded.  The  river  is  too  deep,  and  my  spirits  are  not  buoy 
ant  :  I  should  sink,  to  a  certainty,  and  meet  a  watery  grave. 
Death  by  water-drinking  !  I  shudder  at  the  thought  of  it.  I 
will  remain  and  take  care  of  the  baggage  ;  and  as  many  of 
you  as  can  boast  a  change  may  be  sure  to  meet,  at  your 
return,  the  comforts  of  clean  linen,  and  the  most  cordial 
welcome  that  I  can  give  you." 

LAFAYETTE  AND  HUGER. 

[Major  Huger  of  South  Carolina  was  an  officer  who  fell 
before  'Charleston ;  but  of  his  son,  Col.  P'rancis  Kinlock 
Huger,  there  is  an  anecdote  related  by  Major  Garden,  which, 
while  not  strictly  pertaining  to  Revolutionary  times,  has  an 
interest  and  appropriateness,  on  account  of  the  incident  which 
it  narrates  of  a  payment  of  the  debt  which  the  country  owes 
Lafayette.  That  general  had  been  received  into  Major  Huger's 
family  on  his  first  arrival  in  this  country  ;  and  the  memory  of 
his  visit  was  so  kept  alive,  that,  when  the  occasion  came,  the 
enthusiasm  and  affection  of  a  son  of  the  house  displayed 
itself  in  a  very  chivalric  form.  Lafayette,  it  will* be  remem 
bered,  left  France  when  the  Jacobins  were  in  the  ascendency, 
in  1792,  but  was  arrested  by  the  Austrians,  and  confined  at 
Olmutz.J 

The  anxious  wish  to  free  from  captivity  a  man  who  had 
boldly  stepped  forward,  the  champion  of  liberty,  originated 
with  Dr.  Bollman,1  a  young  Hanoverian,  active,  intrepid,  and 

1  Garden  afterward  corrects  this  statement,  and  shows  Bollman  to  have  been  the 
instrument  of  Lafayette's  former  aides. 


LAFAYETTE  AND  HUGER.  30 1 

intelligent,  but  communicated  confidentially  to  his  friend 
Huger,  with  an  inquiry  if  he  was  inclined  to  second  the  enter 
prise  ;  it  was  embraced  with  alacrity,  and  entered  on  with  an 
ardor  that  insured  his  unremitted  efforts  to  produce  its  accom 
plishment.  The  preparatory  arrangements  were  speedily 
settled.  Huger  feigned  indisposition ;  and,  Bollman  assuming 
the  character  of  his  attending  physician,  horses  were  pur 
chased  ;  and,  after  visiting  several  German  cities,  the  friends 
arrived  at  Olmutz.  Constantly  intent  on  the  object  of  their 
association,  an  acquaintance  was  speedily  formed  with  the 
jailer  to  whose  custody  the  illustrious  prisoner  was  committed, 
and  without  appearing  to  take  too  great  an  interest  in  his  fate, 
by  speaking  occasionally  of  the  severity  of  his  treatment,  which 
they  candidly  acknowledged  they  thought  disproportioned 
to  his  offence,  obtained  permission  to  send  him  books  that 
might  beguile  the  tedium  of  solitude,  and  afford  some  miti 
gation  of  his  griefs.  The  jailer,  a  simple,  benevolent  man, 
saw  no  impropriety  in  the  transaction  while  the  books  deliv 
ered  were  subjected  to  his  inspection,  and  the  opportunity 
afforded  of  ascertaining  that  there  was  nothing  improper  in 
their  contents.  Thus  a  correspondence  was  established.  La 
fayette,  informed  of  the  source  of  this  unhoped-for  indul 
gence,  at  once  conceived  that  more  was  meant  than  met  the 
eye.  He  therefore  carefully  perused  the  book,  and  found,  in 
different  places,  words  written  with  a  pencil,  which,  being  put 
together,  gave  him  the  names  of  the  parties,  and  a  clew  to 
their  designs,  which,  if  approved,  would  at  once  determine 
them,  at  all  hazards,  to  free  him  from  his  captivity.  The 
book  was  returned  with  an  open  note,  thanking  them  for  their 
civility  in  sending  it,  and  an  assurance  that  it  had  been  read 
with  marked  attention,  and  that  he  was,  in  the  highest  degree, 
charmed  with  its  contents.  In  this  manner,  and  by  the  strata 
gem  of  writing  in  lemon-juice  on  the  back  of  a  note,  —  in 
its  visible  contents  altogether  trivial,  with  a  hint  in  the 
book  sent,  "  Quand  vous  aurez  lu  ce  billet,  mettez  le  au 
feu ;  "  which,  when  complied  with,  caused  the  intended  com 
munication  distinctly  to  appear  in  legible  characters,  —  he  was 


302  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

made  acquainted  with  their  arrangements,  and  the  day  fixed 
on  to  put  their  plans  in  execution.  They  had  been  already 
apprised  by  the  jailer,  that  his  prisoner,  though  generally 
closely  confined,  was  permitted,  under  the  charge  of  proper 
attendants,  to  take  exercise  without  the  walls ;  that  he  rode 
in  an  open  cabriolet,  accompanied  by  an  officer,  and  attended 
by  an  armed  soldier,  who  mounted  behind  by  way  of  guard  ; 
and  that,  when  at  a  distance  from  the  walls,  it  was  their 
custom  to  descend  and  walk  together,  for  the  better  enjoyment 
of  exercise. 

On  the  day  appointed,  Lafayette  was  requested  to  gain  as 
great  a  distance  from  the  town  as  possible,  and  on  their  ap 
proach,  by  an  appointed  signal,  to  discover  himself,  as  he  was 
unknown  to  both. 

Every  preliminary  being  arranged,  the  friends  quitted 
Olmutz,  well  mounted,  Bollman  leading  a  third  horse,  and  in 
anxious  expectation  awaited  the  approach  of  the  object  of 
their  solicitude. 

The  city  is  situated  about  thirty  miles  from  Silesia,  in  the 
midst  of  a  plain,  which,  taking  the  town  as  a  centre,  extends 
three  miles  each  way,  without  the  interposition  of  woods,  rocks, 
or  impediments  of  any  kind.  From  the  walls,  every  thing 
passing  within  these  limits  could  be  distinctly  seen.  Sentinels 
were  posted  at  all  points  to  give  the  alarm  whenever  a  prisoner 
enc»eavored  to  escape,  and  considerable  rewards  promised  to 
all  who  contributed  their  aid  to  secure  him.  These  were 
indeed  appalling  difficulties,  but  not  sufficient  to  check  the 
ardor  of  youthful  enthusiasm,  intent  to  break  the  chains  of  a 
hero  against  whom  no  accusation  rested,  but  an  ardent  and 
unceasing  effort  to  better  the  condition  of  his  fellow-men. 

Lafayette  at  length  appeared,  accompanied  by  his  usual 
attendants.  The  preconcerted  signal  was  given,  and  returned. 
A  conflict  speedily  succeeded,  which  gave  freedom  to  the 
prisoner.  The  led  horse  was  presented  by  Huger,  who  ex 
claimed,  "  Use  the  means,  sir,  that  are  offered  for  escape ;  and 
may  Fortune  be  your  guide  !  "  But,  before  he  could  mount, 
the  gleam  of  the  sun  upon  the  sword  that  had  been  wrested 


LAFAYETTE  AND  HUGER.  303 

from  the  officer  startled  the  animal,  who  broke  his  bridle,  and 
fled.  Bollman  rode  off  in  pursuit,  hoping  to  overtake  him.  In 
the  interim,  Huger,  with  a  generosity  truly  chivalric,  insisted 
that  Lafayette  should  mount  the  horse  that  he  himself  rode, 
and  hasten  to  the  place  appointed  as  a  rendezvous.  "  Fly  !  " 
he  exclaimed :  "  the  alarm  is  given,  the  peasants  are  assembling. 
Save  yourself  !  "  The  advice  was  followed,  and  in  a  little  time 
the  fugitive  was  out  cf  sight.  Bollman,  who  had  in  vain  pur 
sued  the  frightened  horse,  now  returned,  and,  taking  Huger  up 
behind  him,  galloped  away,  following  the  route  of  Lafayette. 
They  had  gone  but  a  little  way,  when  the  horse,  unequal  to 
such  a  burden,  stumbled  and  fell ;  and  Bollman  was  so  terribly 
bruised  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  rise  from  the  ground.  The 
gallant  Huger  aided  his  exertions  to  remount,  and,  superior 
to  every  selfish  consideration,  earnestly  entreated  him  to  fol 
low  Lafayette,  declaring  that  he  could  easily  reach  the  woods 
which  bordered  the  plain,  and  in  their  recesses  find  security. 
Bollman,  though  with  extreme  reluctance,  complied. 

During  the  rencounter  which  had  taken  place,  the  soldier 
who  had  remained  with  the  cabriolet,  instead  of  assisting  his 
officer,  ran  off  towards  the  town  ;  but  the  alarm  had  been  given 
long  before  his  arrival  there.  The  transaction  had  been  seen 
from  the  walls,  the  cannon  fired,  and  the  country  raised.  Boll 
man  evaded  his  pursuers  by  telling  them  that  he  himself  was 
in  pursuit.  Huger,  less  fortunate,  was  marked  by  a  party 
who  never  lost  sight  cf  him,  and,  being  overtaken,  was  seized, 
and  carried  back  in  triumph  to  Olmutz.  Meanwhile,  Lafayette 
was  rapidly  advancing  in  his  flight,  and  had  actually  progressed 
ten  miles,  when,  arriving  at  a  spot  where  the  road  divided,  he 
was  at  a  loss  which  to  choose,  and  unluckily  took  the  wrong 
one.  Its  direction  very  speedily  induced  him  to  suspect  the 
truth  ;  and  he  stopped  to  make  inquiry  of  a  man,  who,  conclud 
ing  that  he  was  a  prisoner  attempting  to  escape,  gave  him  a 
wrong  direction,  running  to  a  magistrate  to  communicate  his 
suspicion  ;  so  that  Lafayette,  at  a  moment  that  he  believed 
himself  regaining  a  road  that  would  give  him  security,  found 
himself  surrounded  by  an  armed  force,  and  again  a  prisoner. 


304  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

To  the  interrogation  of  the  magistrate,  his  answers  were  so 
apt  and  ready,  and  a  tale  invented  to  account  for  the  rapidity 
of  his  movement  so  plausible  and  so  satisfactory,  that,  ex 
pressing  his  conviction  of  his  innocence,  he  was  about  to  dis 
miss  him,  when  a  young  man,  entering  the  apartment  with 
papers  which  required  magisterial  signature,  after  fixing  his 
eyes  attentively  on  the  prisoner,  said,  "  This  is  Gen.  Lafayette  ! 
I  was  present  when  he  was  delivered  up  by  the  Prussians  to 
the  Austrian  commandant  at .  This  is  the  man  :  I  can 
not  be  mistaken."  This  declaration  at  once  settled  his  fate. 
He,  too,  was  triumphantly  conducted  to  Olmutz.  Bollman 
escaped  into  Prussian  Silesia,  but,  after  two  days,  was  arrested, 
and  again  delivered  over  to  the  Austrian  authorities. 

On  the  arrival  of  Huger  at  Olmutz,  he  was  carried  before 
Count  Archo,  the  military  commandant  of  the  city,  a  veteran 
of  high  respectability,  who  conducted  himself  during  the 
examination  with  gentleness  and  humanity,  but  after  some 
inquiries,  delivered  him  over  to  the  civil  authority. 

Three  clays  after  this,  chained  hand  and  foot,  the  dauntless 
enthusiast  was  again  brought  before  the  commandant  and  civil 
officer,  to  be  further  interrogated.  The  temper  and  disposition 
towards  him  seemed  now  essentially  changed. 

The  civil  officer  this  day  took  the  lead  in  the  examination  ; 
and  when  Huger  complained,  with  strong  expressions  of  indig 
nation,  of  his  treatment,  the  judge  imperiously  demanded, 
"  Know  you,  sir,  the  forfeit  of  your  conduct  ?  "  An  answer 
being  returned  in  the  negative,  he  very  solemnly  and  impres 
sively  replied,  "  Your  life  !  "  But,  apparently  in  order  to 
remove  the  impression  that  such  a  sentence  was  calculated  to 
produce,  Count  Archo  immediately  turned  the  discourse  into 
a  panegyric  upon  the  emperor,  telling  him  that  his  youth,  his 
motives,  and  conduct,  could  not  but  secure  his  clemency. 
"  Clemency  !  "  said  Huger.  "  How  can  I  expect  it  from  a  man 
who  did  not  act  even  with  justice  towards  Lafayette?"  A 
check  was  immediately  given  to  the  boldness  of  the  prisoner ; 
and  Count  Archo  then  mildly  added,  "  I  judge  of  others  from 
my  own  feelings.  The  attempt  to  injure  me  I  freely  forgive  ; 


ANECDOTE   OF  JOSEPH  WIGFALL.  305 

and,  if  ever  I  shall  need  a  friend,  I  wish  that  friend  may  be  an 
American."  1 

ANECDOTE  OF  JOSEPH  WIGFALL. 

[From  the  newspapers  of  the  day,  some  incidents  may  be 
taken,  though  the  whole  style  of  journalism  was  so  different 
from  that  now  prevailing,  as  to  render  the  papers  less  abun 
dant  in  material  made  to  hand  than  would  be  the  case  now. 
We  take  the  following  from  the  Pennsylvania  Packet  of  July 
15,  1780.] 

When  it  was  found  necessary  to  call  in  the  detachment  of 
American  troops  which  had  been  posted  at  Lampriere's  Ferry,2 
opposite  to  Charleston,  S.C,  three  men  of  Gen.  Hogan's  North- 
Carolina  brigade  were  by  some  accident  left  behind,  who, 
being  in  danger  of  falling  into  the  enemy's  hands,  took 
shelter  in  the  woods,  and  were  travelling  on  towards  George 
town.  In  hopes  of  facilitating  their  march,  and  to  profit  by 
misfortune,  one  of  them,  who  was  clad  in  scarlet,  suggested  a 
stratagem  of  which  his  comrades  approved,  and  which  he 
carried  into  effect.  He  left  his  arms  and  ammunition  with  the 
other  two,  and  went  into  the  plantation  of  a  poltroon  Tory,  or 
one  of  those  mean-spirited  wretches  who  ought  forever  to  be 
stigmatized  under  the  character  of  property-men,  and  to  be 
made  fair  game  to  all  parties.  These  creatures  were  early 
eager  and  noisy  in  fomenting  the  present  war,  but  withdrew 
themselves  the  moment  their  fears  dictated  danger  to  their 
persons  or  their  estates. 

The  brave  North-Carolinian  personated  a  messenger  de 
spatched  by  some  of  that  tribe,  and  addressed  the  owner  of 
the  plantation  in  the  following  terms  :  "  Sir,  I  understand  you 
are  a  friend  to  the  king  and  his  government."  The  property- 
man,  not  a  little  alarmed  at  the  sight  of  a  Red-coat,  hastily 

1  Major  Garden  seems  to  think  he  has  told  all  his  story,  and  perhaps  he  has. 
The  reader  may  be  glad  to  be  assured,  however,  that  Huger  was  released  after  a 
short  confinement,  and  Lafayette  remained  about  two  years  in  prison. 

2  After  the  British  had  been  strengthened  by  the  re-enforcements  from  New  York, 
on  the  iSth  of  April,  they  took  post  on  Haddrell's  Point,  and  obliged  the  Americans 
to  abandon  their  post  at  Lampriere's  Ferry. 

20 


306  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

interrupted  him,  "  Yes,  yes,  sir  !  .  I  am  as  true,  faithful,  and 
loyal  a  subject  as  any  in  his  Majesty's  dominions."  —  "1  have 
been  told  so,"  said  the  soldier.  "  I  am  sent  by  some  of  his 
Majesty's  friends  to  inform  Lord  Cornwallis  of  the  approach 
of  a  rebel  army  from  the  northward,  which  is  coming  on  very 
rapidly,  and  I  am  afraid  will  surprise  that  part  of  the  king's 
army  which  his  lordship  commands  in  this  quarter  of  the 
country,  unless  his  lordship  is  speedily  apprised  of  their  design. 
I  have  travelled  through  swamps  and  thick  woods  to  avoid 
being  stopped  by  the  rebels,  and  last  night  had  the  misfortune 
to  lose  my  horse,  saddle,  &c."  —  "  Sir,"  replied  the  Tory,  "you 
shall  have  the  best  horse  I  am  master  of,  —  my  own  riding- 
horse  ;  and  I  beg  you  will  be  expeditious  in  delivering  your 
message  ;  for,  if  the  rebels  come  here,  I  shall  be  ruined,  per 
haps  hanged.  I  don't  know  what  they'll  do  to  me,  because  I 
am  a  faithful  subject.  —  Boy,  saddle  Spider,  and  bring  him 
immediately  for  this  gentleman  :  make  haste  !  "  Spider,  a  fine 
blooded  horse  was  produced,  with  saddle,  bridle,  holsters,  and 
pistols.  This  encouraged  the  soldier  to  intimate  the  loss  of 
his  side-arms.  The  turncoat,  with  equal  haste,  supplied  him 
with  his  own  militia  sword.  When  the  soldier  was  ready  to 
mount,  he  remarked,  the  weather  looked  gloomy,  and  threatened 
rain,  and  that,  among  other  articles,  he  had  lost  his  surtout. 
"  Sir,"  said  the  apostate,  "  I  have  a  very  fine  roculoe  at  your 
service  :  pray  make  use  of  it,  and  go  on  as  fast  as  possible, 
through  wet  and  dry  :  your  business  is  of  great  consequence." 
Thus  equipped,  the  soldier  rode  off,  and  presently  rejoined  his 
companions,  who  were  waiting  for  him  in  the  bush.  The  three, 
all  armed,  and  one  mounted,  proceeded  on  their  journey  for 
Georgetown.  When  they  had  marched  a  few  miles,  they 
encountered  two  of  the  British  light-horse,  who  had  been 
marauding,  and  plundering  helpless  women  of  their  apparel. 
These  fellows  they  toolc  into  custody,  and  conducted  them 
safely  into  Georgetown,  together  with  Spider  and  his  furniture, 
the  captured  cavalry  and  their  accoutrements,  the  silver- 
mounted  sword,  and  the  "very  fine  roculoe,"  splendidly  marked 
on  the  cape,  JOSEPH  WIGFALL. 


DUEL  BETWEEN  HALEY  AND  DELANCY.     307 

DUEL  BETWEEN  DR.  HALEY  AND  DELANCY. 

[From  the  "  Traditions  and  Reminiscences  of  Dr.  Joseph 
Johnson,"  we  take  the  remaining  incidents  in  this  volume.] 

In  1771,  on  the  i6th  of  August,  an  altercation  arose,  at  a 
genteel  house  of  entertainment  in  St.  Michael's  Alley,  between 
Dr.  John  Haley  and  Delancy,  —  an  elegant,  accomplished 
royalist  of  New  York,  a  brother  of  Mrs.  Ralph  Izard.  De 
lancy  being  irritated,  probably  from  being  foiled  in  argument, 
insulted  Dr.  Haley  by  giving  him  the  "  lie."  Haley  immedi 
ately  challenged  Delancy  to  fight  with  pistols  at  that  house, 
and  proposed  that  they  should  go  together  to  an  upper  room, 
alone,  and  without  seconds.  Delancy  accepted  the  challenge 
and  the  proposed  arrangement.  He  took  one  of  the  pistols 
offered  to  him  by  Haley.  They  fought  across  a  table,  fired  at 
the  same  moment ;  and  Delancy  was  killed. 

Dr.  Haley  was  an  Irishman  by  birth,  an  eminent  practi 
tioner  of  medicine  in  Charleston.  He  warmly  espoused  the 
popular  cause  in  opposition  to  royalty,  and,  as  a  man  of  edu 
cation  and  influence,  was  much  encouraged  by  the  leaders  of 
the  incipient  revolution.  Delancy  being  a  very  distinguished 
man  among  the  Royalists,  much  irritation  was  exhibited  among 
them  at  his  death  and  the  circumstances  attending  it.  The 
Whigs,  on  the  other  hand,  defended  Dr.  Haley,  and  concealed 
him  until  his  trial  came  on.  During  this  concealment,  being 
secluded  from  society,  and  deprived  of  his  usual  occupations 
of  mind  and  body,  he  became  melancholy ;  and  this  depression 
was  increased  by  an  accidental  occurrence  that  took  place 
while  he  was  in  this  seclusion.  In  passing,  after  dark,  across 
the  enclosure  where  he  staid  in  the  country,  a  clothes-line, 
which  had  been  left  extended  and  unseen,  suddenly  caught 
him  by  the  throat,  and  stopped  his  course.  He  considered 
this  to  be  ominous  of  his  fate ;  and  the  impression  could  not 
be  dispelled  by  the  reasoning  or  the  jokes  of  his  friends.  He 
may  have  imbibed  superstitious  fears  from  nursery-tales  in  his 
youth,  which  sometimes,  even  in  manhood,  imbitter  the  feel 
ings.  The  firmest  minds  have  their  moments  of  weakness  ; 


3O8  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

and,  in  his  situation,  such  depression  might  be  expected.  Dr. 
Haley  knew,  that  having  fought  without  witnesses,  and  killed 
his  opponent,  the  laws  of  his  country,  and  the  usages  of 
courts,  considered  him  a  murderer,  and  that  he  must  be  tried 
for  his  life.  His  cause,  however,  had  been  taken  up  as  a 
party  dispute.  Thomas  Heyward,  the  Pinckneys,  and  the 
Rutledges,  defended  him  in  his  trial.  They  proved  that  De- 
lancy  was  the  aggressor  ;  that  he  not  only  accepted  the  chal 
lenge,  but  the  terms  also  ;  that  he  took  Haley's  offered  pistol, 
and  voluntarily  followed  him  up  stairs  into  a  private  room,  as 
had  been  proposed ;  that  he  fired  with  intent  to  kill  Haley  with 
his  own  pistol,  for  the  two  balls  with  which  it  was  loaded  were 
taken  out  of  the  wall  just  back  of  his  adversary,  — one  on  each 
side  of  where  he  stood.  Haley  was  acquitted  ;  and  his  acquital 
was  considered  a  great  triumph  by  the  Whigs  and  popular 
party,  situated  as  they  were  under  the  royal  government.  It 
was  also  considered  by  the  Royalists  a  proportionate  source  of 
chagrin. 

ANECDOTES  OF  JOHN  WALTERS  GIBBS. 

Many  anecdotes  were  told  of  John  Walters  Gibbs,  but  few  of 
which  are  now  remembered.  Besides  being  a  great  humorist, 
he  was  a  gentleman  in  character  and  deportment.  It  is  well 
known  that  rum  (made  by  distillation  from  fermented  sugar 
or  molasses)  was  drunk  almost  universally  at  that  time  in 
America.  Many  were  intemperate  in  the  use  of  it ;  and, 
among  others,  a  man  of  some  note,  named  Hill,  had  become 
a  drunkard  ;  and  his  life  was  shortened  in  consequence.  Mr. 
Gibbs  wrote  the  following  epigram  at  the  time  of  his  death  :  — 

The  essence  of  the  dulcet  cane 

Has  sunk  a  "  Hill "  six  feet  beneath  the  plain. 

After  the  Revolution,  Mr.  Gibbs  found  himself,  like  most 
others,  in  narrow  circumstances,  and  opened  a  counting-house 
in  his  former  line  as  broker  and  auctioneer.  He  was  unedu 
cated  in  the  Wall-street  school ;  and,  after  various  expedients 
to  draw  attention  and  obtain  employment,  he  said  that  he  was  so 
much  reduced,  that  he  was  alarmed  if  he  heard  his  wife  speak 


ANECDOTES  OF  JOHN  WALTER   GIBBS.     309 

of  going  out,  lest  she  should  purchase  something  that  he  was 
unable  to  pay  for,  and  thus  expose  his  poverty.  At  length 
he  advertised  a  sum  of  money  to  be  loaned  out,  when  he  had 
scarcely  enough  to  pay  for  the  advertisement.  This  brought 
many  applicants  to  his  office  :  he  had  never  seen  so  many 
customers  there  before.  To  all  of  them  he  expressed  himself 
very  sorry  that  they  had  come  so  late.  The  money  was  all 
disposed  of  ;  but  he  expected  to  have  more  shortly,  £c.  It 
happened,  beyond  his  expectations,  that  a  gentleman  called 
to  say,  that,  having  read  his  advcrtisment,  he  had  come,  not  to 
borrow  but  to  loan  money  through  his  agency,  supposing  him 
to  be  best  acquainted  with  the  relative  credits  of  borrowers. 
This  was  just  what  Mr.  Gibbs  wanted :  it  gave  him  not  only 
commissions,  but  credit  and  custom.  He  could  now  speculate, 
and,  as  opportunity  offered,  would  sell  out  at  a  profit. 

Shortly  after  this,  a  gang  of  negroes  was  sent  to  him  for 
sale ;  and,  about  the  same  time,  an  English  merchant  called 
with  an  invoice  of  wigs,  to  inquire  if  there  was  any  chance  of 
selling  them.  He  had  been  misled  by  some  wag  in  England, 
punning  on  the  party  term  Whig,  who  said  that  Whigs  were  all 
the  rage  now  in  America.  Mr.  Gibbs  promptly  undertook  to 
sell  the  wigs,  and  advertised  to  sell  the  negroes  on  a  certain 
day,  each  having  on  a  new  and  fashionable  wig.  Accordingly, 
on  the  day  of  sale,  a  great  company  assembled ;  and  the 
negroes  were  put  up  for  sale,  each  with  a  powdered  wig  over 
his  natural  black  wool,  and  each  wig  to  be  paid  for  at  a  guinea 
apiece,  let  the  negroes  sell  for  what  they  may.  The  novelty 
of  the  scene,  and  Mr.  Gibbs's  humor,  inspired  the  assembled 
people.  The  bids  were  very  lively  and  liberal.  The  negroes 
were  all  well  sold ;  and  the  powdered,  old-fashioned  wigs,  with 
long  cues,  and  great  rolls  of  curls,  all  brought  a  guinea  apiece 
in  addition. 

During  the  Revolution,  when  the  citizens  were  harassed  by 
frequent  drafts  to  serve  in  the  militia,  and  substitutes  were 
hired  to  relieve  them  from  the  duty,  Mr.  Gibbs  was  still  ready 
to  amuse  himself  and  others.  He  was  one  day  on  the  vendue 
table,  professionally  engaged,  when  a  green-looking  back- 


310  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

woodsman  looked  up,  and  asked,  "  What  he  was  doing  thar  ?  " 
Mr.  Gibbs  whispered,  in  answer,  that  he  would  put  the  coun 
tryman  in  a  way  of  making  200  or  300  dollars,  if  he  would 
come  up  there,  and  not  interrupt  him.  He  immediately  set  up 
the  countryman  for  sale,  as  a  substitute,  to  the  highest  bidder. 
"  Here,  gentlemen,  is  an  able-bodied  substitute  ;  will  serve 
three  months  for  him  who  will  pay  him  best.  You  all  see  that 
he  is  sound,  sober,  honest,  and  no  runaway.  Who  bids  $100  ? 
I  will  warrant  him  full  of  blood  and  courage.  Who  bids 
$150,  150,  200,  250  ?  I'll  knock  him  down."  At  this  apparent 
threat,  the  countryman  turned  short  round  to  defend  himself. 
"  That's  a  brave  fellow  !  "  said  Mr.  Gibbs  :  "  see  how  ready  he 
is  to  fight.  He  is  worth  $50  more  to  any  man.  Who  will 
give  $300  for  this  fine  fellow  ?  It's  your  bid,  sir,  $300  :  he  is 
yours,  sir."  The  countryman  now  asked,  for  the  first  time, 
what  he  was  to  do ;  and  on  being  told  that  he  must  go  and 
fight  the  British,  Tories,  and  Indians,  he  said  very  dryly,  "  I 
be  darned  if  I  do  ! "  After  some  further  bantering,  they 
agreed  to  let  the  countryman  off,  if  he  would  treat  them  to  a 
bowl  of  punch. 

During  the  Revolution,  Mr.  Gibbs  was  frequently  on  guard- 
duty  in  the  volunteer  company  to  which  he  was  attached.  He 
observed  that  one  member  of  the  company  was  always  ready 
to  answer  at  roll-call  morning  and  evening,  but  never  could 
be  found  when  his  squad  was  called  out  in  turn  for  patrol. 
Mr.  Gibbs  found,  by  watching,  that  this  gentleman  always 
retired  into  the  church  at  which  the  company  were  stationed, 
and  slept  all  night  in  the  pulpit.  For  more  reasons  than  one, 
he  determined  to  expose  the  trick  practised  on  them,  and  pre 
vent  its  continuance.  When  they  were  again  going  on  duty, 
Mr.  Gibbs  procured  a  calf,  and  secured  it  secretly  in  the  pul 
pit  before  the  meeting  of  the  company.  After  roll-call,  his 
sleepy  companion  strolled  off  as  usual.  Mr.  Gibbs  kept  his 
eye  upon  him,  but  said  nothing.  After  a  while,  a  tremendous 
outcry  and  downfall  was  heard  in  the  church ;  and  Mr.  Gibbs, 
taking  a  light,  called  on  the  company  present  to  go  with  him, 
and  see  if  any  thing  supernatural  would  make  its  appearance. 


GEN.    THOMAS  POLK  OF  NORTH  CAROLINA.  31 1 

The  group  soon  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  pulpit-stairs,  and, 
to  their  astonishment,  found  their  comrade  prostrate  on  the 
floor,  and  the  calf,  dazzled  by  the  light,  standing  mutely  over 
him.  After  removing  the  calf,  their  comrade  came  to  his 
senses,  and  declared,  that,  when  he  heard  the  scraping  and 
rattling  made  by  the  cloven-footed  animal  in  the  pulpit,  he 
really  believed  it  to  be  the  Devil,  come  to  punish  him  for  his 
irreverence  in  this  case,  and  for  other  sins.  After  this,  if  ever 
negligent  of  duty,  his  fellow-soldiers  would  only  bleat  at  him 
like  a  calf,  and  he  became  very  punctual. 

On  one  occasion  Mr.  Gibbs  invited  a  party  to  dine  with 
him,  of  whom  only  one  or  two  were  his  old  convivial  associ 
ates  in  fun  and  frolic.  The  rest  were  all  habitual  stutterers, 
and,  the  more  they  stuttered,  the  better  suited  to  his  purpose. 
He  arranged  them  at  table  so  as  to  increase  the  effect. 
Each  one  was  politely  asked  what  he  would  be  helped  to, 
what  part  he  would  prefer,  &c.  ;  and,  while  trying  hard  to 
express  their  wishes  and  thanks,  there  was  a  general  display 
of  grimaces,  with  uncouth  but  unutterable  sounds.  Each 
guest  must  be  content  to  eat  what  was  before  him,  or  be 
laughed  at,  in  his  fruitless  endeavors  to  ask  for  what  he  would 
have  preferred. 

Some  of  the  guests  were  displeased  at  the  evident  intention 
of  their  host,  but  were  so  well  plied  with  his  excellent  wine, 
so  well  filled  with  his  good  cheer,  so  well  amused  with  his 
social  and  entertaining  conversation,  and  with  the  good 
stories  and  jokes  of  those  who  did  not  stutter,  that  they  at 
last  retired  in  good  humor  with  Mr.  Gibbs,  and  all  the  world 
besides. 

GEN.  THOMAS  POLK  OF  NORTH  CAROLINA. 

In  the  fall  of  1782,  while  a  child,  I  remained  two  or  three 
months  in  Charlotte  with  my  father's  family.  I  remember  to 
have  seen  the  then  Gen.  Polk  and  his  sons  repeatedly.  The 
general  was  plain  and  unassuming  in  his  deportment,  more 
like  a  farmer  or  miller  than  a  general.  The  sons  were  wild, 
frolicsome  blades,  four  in  number,  named  Charles,  William, 


312  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

James,  and  Ezekiel.  I  there  heard  it  told  that  the  general 
was,  on  some  occasion,  speaking  of  highway  robberies,  some 
times  committed  by  a  single  man.  He  expressed  his  surprise 
at  their  frequent  occurrence,  without  capture  or  resistance, 
and  went  on  to  say  that  he  had  never  been  robbed,  and  no 
single  man  would  dare  attempt  it.  His  sons  all  heard  it ;  and 
Charles  resolved  to  try  him.  Hearing  that  his  father  was 
going  on  some  by-road  to  receive  a  sum  of  money,  he  way 
laid  him,  and  demanded  the  instant  delivery  of  all  that  he  had. 
The  father  grasped  at  his  pistols,  but  Charles  was  too  quick 
for  him  ;  and  seeing  a  pistol,  as  he  supposed,  presented  to  his 
breast,  he  gave  up  the  money,  and  went  home  very  much 
fretted  and  mortified  at  the  result.  After  some  condolence 
with  their  father,  the  young  men  inquired  the  cause  of  his 
depression,  and  offered  their  aid  in  any  difficulties.  He  then 
told  them  that  he  had  been  robbed  of  such  a  sum  of  money 
on  the  road  designated.  They  all  expressed  surprise,  and 
asked  if  he  did  not  go  armed  on  that  occasion.  He  acknowl 
edged  that  he  had  his  pistols,  but  had  not  time  to  use  them. 
They  then,  with  apparently  greater  surprise,  concluded  that 
there  must  have  been  several  highwaymen  associated  ;  and  he, 
with  increased  mortification,  acknowledged  that  there  was  but 
one,  but  said  he  was  taken  by  surprise,  and  off  his  guard. 
The  three  youngest  sons  then  retired ;  and  Charles,  returning 
the  money,  acknowledged  that  he  had  taken  it  from  him. 
"  What !  "  said  the  general :  "  and  did  you  endanger  your 
father's  life  ?  "  —  "  No,  sir ! "  said  Charles.  "  What !  did  you 
not  present  a  pistol  to  my  breast  ?  "  —  "  No,  sir !  "  said  Charles. 
"  How  can  you  say  that  ?  "  said  the  father.  "  I  assure  you, 
sir,"  said  Charles,  "it  was  only  my  mother's  brass  candle 
stick,  that  I  took  off  from  your  own  mantlepiece." 

PEELING  A  PRISONER. 

Fort  Watson,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  a  British  fort, 
built  on  the  top  of  an  Indian  mound,  at  least  forty  feet  above 
the  surrounding  country,  near  the  margin  of  Scott's  Lake,  on 
the  upper  part  of  Santee  River.  When  this  fort  was  taken 


VIOLENT  S  UR  GER  Y.  313 

by  the  united  forces  of  Marion  and  Lee,  Lieut.  Manning,  of 
Lee's  legion,  was  one  of  the  officers  ordered  to  take  charge  of 
the  prisoners.  The  Americans  were  very  destitute  of  clothing, 
food,  and  other  necessaries.  When  the  inhabitants  of  the  fort 
marched  out,  Manning  observed  one  of  them,  uncommonly 
stout  for  his  height,  and  yet  thin  in  his  face  :  his  name  was 
Rosher.  Manning  went  up  to  him,  and  asked,  "  What  have 
you  here,  my  good  fellow?  Is  all  this  from  good  living?  "  — 
"  No,"  said  Rosher,  "  we  often  suffered  very  much  for  want 
of  food,  and,  but  for  our  surrender,  should  soon  have  suffered 
cruelly."  —  Well,  then,  my  good  fellow,  unbutton,  and  show 
us  what  makes  you  so  corpulent :  unburden  yourself."  So 
the  soldier  commenced  to  take  off  coat  after  coat,  waistcoat 
after  waistcoat,  and  shirt  after  shirt,  until  he  had  removed  a 
dozen,  or  more ;  Manning  all  the  while,  encouraging  him. 
"  Come,  pull  away,  my  good  fellow :  be  quick,  if  you  please  ! 
You  are  a  godsend  to  my  half-clad  comrades.  Be  in  a  hurry, 
if  you  please  !  "  until  he  came  down  to  his  old  buff  friend,  of 
which  Manning  did  not  wish  to  fleece  him.  "  Now,  my  good 
fellow,  be  pleased  to  try  it  lower  down."  So  Rosher  contin 
ued  to  take  off  breeches  after  breeches,  stockings  after  stock 
ings,  &c.,  until  he  had  nearly  got  all  off.  Lieut.  Manning  then 
told  him  to  choose  a  suit  of  the  best,  and  be  thankful  to  the 
Americans,  who  had  kindly  saved  him  from  starving  in  that 
bit  of  a  fort.  Rosher  resided,  several  years  after  the  peace, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Watson,  and  often  told  this  story 
himself  among  his  other  adventures. 

VIOLENT  SURGERY. 

Among  the  most  active  and  daring  of  Marion's  men  were 
Robert  Simons  and  William  Withers,  two  young  men  equally 
inconsiderate.  They  had  been  sent  icgether  on  some  confi 
dential  expedition,  and,  while  resting  at  noon  for  refreshment, 
Withers,  a  practised  shot,  was  examining  his  pistols  to  see  if 
they  were  in  prime  order  for  any  emergency;  while  Simons 
sat  near  him,  either  reading,  or  absorbed  in  thought,  or  the 
want  of  thought  —  a  revery.  "Bob,"  said  Withers,  "if  you 


314  THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES. 

had  not  that  bump  on  the  bridge  of  your  nose,  you  would  be  a 
likely  young  fellow."  —  "  Do  you  think  so  ? "  said  Simons,  and 
again  sunk  into  his  revery.  Withers,  for  want  of  something 
else  to  do,  was  pointing  his  pistol  at  different  objects,  to  steady 
his  hand,  and  practise  the  grasp,  weight,  and  level  of  his  favorite 
weapons.  At  last,  as  Simons  sat  sideways  to  him,  Withers's 
eyes  were  again  attracted  by  the  prominent  bridge  of  his  nose. 
"  Bob,"  said  Withers,  "  I  think  that  I  can  shoot  off  that  ugly 
bump  on  your  nose."  —  "Ah  !  "  said  Bob.  "  Shall  I  shoot  ?  " 
said  Withers.  "  Shoot,"  said  Bob  ;  and  crack  went  the  pistol. 
The  ball  could  not  have  been  better  aimed  :  it  struck  the 
projecting  bridge,  and  demolished  it  forever.  The  bone  was, 
of  course,  shattered  ;  and,  instead  of  Simons  being  improved 
in  his  appearance,  he  became  a  very  ugly  man.  I  knew 
Robert  Simons  personally :  he  lived  many  years  at  a  planta 
tion  on  Ashley  River,  called  Mount  Gerizim. 


INDEX. 


Adams,  Mrs.  John,  sketches  prominent 
officers,  34,  35. 

Affectation  of  French  manners,  232. 

Albanians,  education  and  early  habits  of 
the,  125  ;  amusements,  127 ;  rural  ex 
cursions,  129;  winter  amusements,  132; 
fashionable  pig-stealing,  133. 

Albany,  N.Y.,  122 ;  its  neighborhood, 
124. 

Almanacks,  a  staple  article  of  reading, 
"3- 

Ambruster,  243. 

Amusements  in  Albany,  127;  in  winter, 
132. 

Anburey,  Lieut.,  a  British  officer  who 
keeps  his  eyes  open  after  being  taken 
prisoner,  42. 

Andre,  Major,  the  pretext  for  Trumbull's 
arrest,  65 ;  paints  decorations  for  the 
Meschianza  at  Philadelphia,  263. 

Andrews,  John,  letters  from,  19,  21,  26. 

Apprentice,  the  trials  of  an,  116;  an  old- 
fashioned,  241. 

Architecture,  Trumbull  advised  to  devote 
himself  to,  74. 

Aunt,  a  universal,  159. 

Balch,   Nathan,   hatter   to    the   Boston 

rulers,  49. 
Ball,  Col.,  190. 
Barn,  Col.  Schuyler's,  149. 
Barrell,  William,  19. 


Baxter,  Col.,  shot  horizontally  at  his  post, 
296. 

B c,  the  Chevalier  du,  248. 

Beaujolais,  251. 

Beissel,  254. 

Bettys,  Joe,  190. 

Beveridge,  John,  205  ;  his  unequal  con 
tests  with  his  pupils,  206. 

"  Blockade  of  Boston,  the,"  24. 

"  Blockheads,  the,"  a  farce,  25. 

Bollman,  Dr.,  attempts,  with  Huger,  to 
rescue  Lafayette,  300. 

Books  in  the  last  century,  a  boy's,  114. 

Boston,  the  siege  of,  19,  28  ;  evacuation 
of,  26. 

Brickett,  Gen.,  not  above  selling  his 
boots,  43. 

Buckingham,  Joseph  Tinker,  107 ;  his 
early  recollections,  108  ;  the  poverty  of 
his  childhood,  109  ;  his  first  schooling, 
no  ;  his  experience  at  a  district  school, 
in  ;  puzzled  over  Watts' s  Hymns,  112; 
keeps  the  wolf  from  the  mental  door 
by  reading  almanacks,  113  ;  the  books 
he  owned  and  read,  114  ;  is  apprenticed 
in  the  printing  trade,  115  ;  enters  the 
office  of  "  The  Greenfield  Gazette," 
116;  enormously  rich  on  $6.75,  117; 
sets  upas  a  philologist,  118;  goes  to 
Boston,  119. 

Bunker  Hill,  Trumbull's  picture  of,  76. 

Burgoyne,  Gen.  John,  24, 172, 173,  174. 

3*5 


INDEX. 


Burke,  Edmund,  visits  Trumbull,  72  ; 
advises  him  to  devote  himself  to  archi 
tecture,  74  ;  attacks  the  king's  speech, 
91. 

Bushnell,  D.,  inventor  of  the  great  tor 
pedo,  185. 

Byles,  Dr.  Mather,  22  ;  his  daughters,  22, 
23. 

Cabot,  Pierre,  252. 

Cadwallader,  Gen.,  shares  with  Massey 
the  biscuit-maker  the  honor  of  being 
the  best  skater,  216. 

Cambridge  camp,  soldiers  in,  29. 

Cannon-balls  have  more  momentum  than 
innocent  soldiers  suspect,  60. 

Cams,  Capt.,  and  Dr.  Skinner,  298. 

Carter,  John,  has  his  picture  unpleas 
antly  drawn  by  the  Baroness  Riedesel, 
38 ;  but  agreeably  afterward  by  Trum 
bull,  whom  he  befriends,  78. 

Chastellux,  Marquis  de,  visits  Gov. 
Trumbull,  52  ;  describes  new  settle 
ments,  103  ;  visits  Washington,  193  ; 
discourses  on  toasting,  197 ;  visits 
Princeton  and  Dr.  Witherspoon,  200. 

Chocolate,  241. 

Chovet,  Dr.,  269,  273. 

Church,  John  Barker,  79. 

Churchill's  Rosciad,  quoted,  222,  223. 

Cincinnatus,  an  American,  288. 

Circumstance  spelled  with  an  s,  213. 

Coasting,  or  sliding  down  hill,  under 
Scotch  observation,  132. 

Coghlan,  Mrs.,  181. 

College  customs,  45. 

College  president,  an  old-time,  49. 

Commons  at  college,  47. 

Connecticut  and  Athens,  73. 

Copley,  John  Singleton,  56 ;  visited  by 
Trumbull,  56 ;  paints  Elkanah  Wat 
son's  portrait,  88  ;  is  present  at  the 
king's  recognition  of  the  United  States, 
89,  91. 

Cornwallis,  Lord,  257,  288,  290. 

Craft,  Benjamin,  a  passage  from  his  jour 
nal,  29. 

Crevecoeur,  Hector  St.  John,  92. 


Cuyler,  Mrs.  Cornelius,  160. 

Darrah,  Lydia,  274. 

De  Grasse,  Admiral,  278. 

Delancy  and  Haley's  duel,  306. 

Dickman,    Thomas,  publisher  of  "The 

Greenfield  Gazette,''  116. 
District  school,  a  New-England,  in. 
Doctors,  old,  269. 
Dove,  James,  202. 
Draper,  Sir  William,  223. 
Duel  between  Haley  and  Delancy,  306. 
Duponceau,  P.  S.,  268. 

Elliott,  Mrs.  Charles,  298. 
Ephratah  institution,  the,  254. 
Etherington,  Major  George,  226. 
Evacuation  of  Boston,  26. 

Fahnestock,  Dr.  W.  M.,  254. 

Faneuil  Hall  Theatre,  the,  23. 

Farnham,  the  peruke-king,  49. 

Fashionable  pig-stealing,  133. 

Fayssoux,  Dr.,  290. 

Flag,  American,  when  first  hoisted  in 
England,  89. 

Flats,  the,  residence  of  the  Schuylers, 
140 ;  the  house  and  rural  economy, 
146;  company  at,  153;  the  servants, 
154  ;  burning  of  the  house,  164. 

Foote,  the  comedian,  225. 

Forrest,  Col.  Thomas,  242. 

Fox,  Charles  J.,  visits  Trumbull  in  pris 
on,  72  ;  in  the  House  of  Commons,  91. 

Foxcroft,  John,  vainly  utters  bad  Latin, 

5i- 
Franklin,     Benjamin,     62  ;      introduces 

Trumbull  to  West,  63  ;  has  his  head 

moulded  in  wax  by  Mrs.  Wright,  83  ; 

receives  Elkanah  Watson,  86  ;  note  of 

Count  de  Vergennes  to,  87. 
French  manners,  affectation  of,  232. 
Fulmer,  Cory,  and  Perkins,  the  captors 

of  Joe  Bettys,  190,  193. 
Furniture,  238. 

Gage's  nose  in  danger,  31. 
Galloway,  Joseph,  70. 


INDEX. 


317 


Gates,  Gen.  Horatio,  6x,  62. 

George   III.  declares  the  independence 

of  the  United  States,  89,  90. 
Gibbon's  compliment  to   his    landlady, 

219. 

Gibbs,  anecdotes  of  John  Walters,  308. 
Grant  of  Laggan,  Mrs.,  122 ;  her  early 

life,  167  ;    introduced  to  Milton,  169  ; 

made  acquainted  with  Madame  Schuy- 

ler,  170. 

Graydon,  Alexander,  202. 
Greenness  of  soldiers,  the,  32. 

Haley,  Dr.  John,  his  duel  with  Delancy, 

307. 

Harvard  college,  social  rank  in,  45. 
Hedge,  Prof.  Levi,  a  reformer  of  college 

manners,  45. 
Hendricks,  John,  243. 
Horry,  Col.  Peter,  295. 
How,  David,  passages  from  his  diary,  29. 
Howe,  Gen.,  23,  259. 
Huger,  Col.  Francis  Kinlock,  300. 
Huger,  Gen.,  290. 
Humor,  a  bit  of  Yankee,  21. 

Indian  families  living  with  the  Schuylers, 

139- 
Irvine,  Dr.,  291. 

Johnson,  Dr.   Joseph ;   Traditions   and 

Reminiscences,  307. 
Johnson,  Sir  William,  161. 
Joiett,  Capt.  Robert,  294. 

Kalb,  Baron  de,  219,  220. 
"  Kegs,  the  Battle  of  the,"  228. 
Kirkland,  Dr.,  tells  a  story  about  an  ob 
solete  college  custom,  45. 
Knox,  Henry,  194,  195. 

Lafayette,  Marquis  de,  193,  195 ;  at 
tempted  escape  from  confinement,  300. 

Lay-brothers,  136. 

Lee,  Gen.  Charles,  sketched  by  Abigail 
Adams,  35. 

Lee,  Hon.  John,  71. 

Literary  cartridges,  280. 


Lock,  General,  an  American  Cincinnatus, 

288. 

Loxley,  Capt.,  208. 

Loyalists,  American,  in  London,  63,  65. 
Lunt,  Paul,  29. 
Lyman,  Rev.  Joseph,  beaten  in  Greek  by 

John  Trumbull,  atat  six,  53. 

Manners,  affectation  of  French,  232. 

Manning,  Lieut.,  292,  312. 

Marion's  men,  two  of  them,  313. 

"  Memories  of  Youth  and  Manhood,"  by 
Sidney  Willard,  49. 

Meschianza  at  Philadelphia,  the,  259. 

Mifflin,  Thomas,  noticed  by  Abigail 
Adams,  35  ;  aide-de-camp  to  Washing 
ton,  61. 

M'Lean,  Capt.  Allen,  275. 

Mohawks,  the,  143. 

Moncrieffe,  Miss,  with  Gen.  Putnam, 
181 ;  toasts  Gen.  Howe  at  Putnam's 
table,  182  ;  and  Gen.  Putnam  at  Gen. 
Howe's  table,  184. 

Moody,  Master,  53. 

Miller,  William  Turner,  letters  of,  30. 

Moore,  Lady,  221. 

Morris,  Robert,  anecdotes  of,  276,  283. 

Music  at  Ephratah,  254. 

Nantucket  described  by  Crevecceur,  92  ; 

peculiar  customs  at,  97. 
Nantucket  women,  100. 
New-Englanders  criticised  by  Gen.  Rie- 

desel,  41,  by  Lieut.  Anburey,  41,  44 ; 

characterized  by  Gen.  Riedesel,  105. 
New-England  seacoast  life,  92. 
New  York,  144. 
North,  Lord,  caricatured,  113. 
Nose    for  a    target,    a,    31;    surgically 

treated  with  a  pistol-shot,  313. 

O'Brien,  Lady  Susan,  222. 
Ogle  and  Friend,  211. 
Opium  taken  by  the  women  in    Nan 
tucket,  103. 
Orleans,  Due  de,  251. 

Parsons,  Theodore,  57. 


INDEX. 


Paxton  Boys,  the,  208. 

Peeling  a  prisoner,  312. 

Percy,  Lord,  23,  25. 

Philadelphia,  habits  of  society  in,  230; 
gentlemen's  dress  in,  233  ;  ladies'  dress, 
236 ;  the  entry  of  the  British  army 
into,  256:  the  Meschianza  at,  259. 

Philadelphia  schoolmaster,  a,  202. 

Plan  of  the  enemy's  works  made  by 
Trumbull,  61. 

Poggi,  Antonio  di,  publisher  of  engrav 
ings,  77. 

Polk,  Gen.  Thomas,  of  North  Carolina, 
3". 

Preparatory  studies  for  admission  to  col 
lege,  55. 

Princeton,  200. 

Printing-business  in  Boston,  the,  nS. 

Privations  during  the  war,  265  ;  of  the 
officers,  289. 

Putnam,  Gen.  Israel,  181,  184,  185. 

Raynal,  the  Abb4,  217. 

Read,  Dr.  William,  288,  289. 

Redman,  Dr.,  271. 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  takes  Trumbull 
down  a  peg,  75 ;  but  unwittingly 
praises  his  pictures  afterwards,  77. 

Richards,  Will,  a  Tartar  caught  by  Ogle, 
212. 

Richardson,  Frank,  224. 

Riedesel,  the  Baroness,  at  Cambridge, 
36>  37;  hears  dreadful  stories,  38;  is 
surprised  at  seeing  a  house  moved,  39 ; 
gives  a  ball,  40;  meets  with  Gen. 
Schuyler,  172  ;  falls  in  with  hostile 
people,  176  ;  has  a  hard  time  crossing 
the  Hudson,  178;  sings  a  song  for 
butter,  285  ;  visits  the  Garels  in  Mary 
land,  285. 

Riedesel,  Gen.,  criticises  New-England- 
ers,  41  ;  characterizes  the  colonies,  105. 

Riflemen,  a  sharpshooting  company  of,  2  r. 

Robichaucl,  Pere,  a  French  emigre",  57. 

Rochambeau,  Count,  278. 

Salt  provisions  familiar  to  besieged  Bos- 
tonians,  20. 


Say,  Dr.  Thomas,  271,  273. 

Schuyler,  Col.,  138  ;  his  barn,  149. 

Schuyler,  Philip,  Col.,  140,  142. 

Schuyler,  Philip,  Gen.,  and  Madame 
Riedesel,  172. 

Schuyler,  Miss,  the  "  American  Lady," 
138 ;  Marriage,.  140 ;  her  habits  for 
the  da>',  151  ;  resources,  157. 

Servants  in  the  Schuyler  family,  154. 

Settlements,  new,  103. 

Sharpshooting,  30. 

Shippen,  Dr.  William,  273. 

Siege  of  Boston,  the,  19,  28. 

Simons,  Robert,  313. 

Skinner,  Dr ,  his  eccentricities,  296. 

Slate  Roof  House,  the,  217;  the  guests 
at,  219. 

Social  rank  in  college,  45. 

Society  in  New  York,  144. 

Soldiers'  diaries  and  letters,  29,  30. 

Spencer,  Gen.  Joseph,  59. 

Steuben,  Baron,  280. 

Strange,  Mrs.  Robert,  visited  by  a  fash 
ionable  French  lady,  who  excites  Trum- 
bull's  laughter,  63. 

Stuart,  Gilbert,  64. 

Sullivan,  Gen.  John,  noticed  by  Abigail 
Adams,  36. 

Surgery,  violent,  313. 

Swimming  and  skating,  214. 

Tailor,  a  superstitious,  242. 

Target  practice  on  Boston  Common,  21. 

Tea,  241. 

Thacher's,  Dr.  James,  portrait  of  Wash 
ington,  198. 

Theatre,  the  Faneuil  Hall,  23. 

Thompson,  Sir  Benjamin,  afterward 
Count  Rumford,  66. 

Thompson,  Charles,  204. 

Tisdale,  Nathan,  a  famous  schoolmaster, 
53- 

Toasting,  the  custom  of,  197. 

Tories  leaving  Boston  in  a  hurry,  26,  27. 

Torpedo,  the  great,  185. 

Tory  ladies,  two,  22. 

Tothill-fields  Bridewell,  where  Trum 
bull  was  mildly  confined,  69. 


INDEX. 


319 


Trumbull,  Col.  John,  52 ;  his  early 
school-clays  at  Lebanon,  53  ;  reads 
Greek  at  six  years,  53  ;  develops  taste 
for  drawing  early,  54 ;  prepares  for 
college,  54 ;  very  much  bothered  by 
his  arithmetic,  55  ;  enthusiasm  for  art, 
56  ;  enters  Harvard,  57  ;  becomes  do 
mesticated  with  a  French  family,  57 ; 
uses  the  college  library  to  feed  his  love 
for  art,  57  ;  copies  painting,  58  ;  grad 
uates  in  1773,  58  ;  caught  by  the  war 
fever,  59 ;  attaches  himself  to  Gen. 
Spencer,  59 ;  makes  a  plan  of  the 
works  on  Boston  Neck,  6 1  ;  is  promot 
ed  therefor  to  be  aide-de-camp  to 
Washington,  61 ;  made  major  of  bri 
gade,  62  ;  leaves  the  service,  62  ;  goes 
abroad,  62  ;  visits  Mrs.  Strange,  63  ; 
introduced  by  Franklin  to  West,  63  ; 
reported  by  loyalists,  63  ;  meets  Gilbert 
Stuart  at  West's  rooms,  64 ;  copies 
West's  copies,  64  ;  arrested  as  an  off 
set  to  Andre,  65  ;  brought  before  a 
magistrate,  67  ;  put  to  his  mettle,  68  ; 
examined  a  second  time,  68  ;  inTothill- 
fields  Bridewell,  69;  befriended  by 
West,  70 ;  visited  by  Fox,  Burke,  and 
others,  72  ;  returns  to  America,  73  ; 
argues  with  his  shrewd  father  upon  the 
arts,  73,  74  ;  returns  to  London,  74  ; 
resumes  work  under  West,  75  ;  is 
snubbed  by  Reynolds,  75  ;  meditates 
subjects  of  Revolutionary  history,  76  ; 
has  the  satisfaction  of  retaliating  on 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  77 ;  engages  in 
the  business  of  historical  pictures, 
77 ;  finds  a  banker  in  John  Carter, 
78. 

Trumbull,  Gov.,  51  ;  described  by  the 
Marquis  de  Chastellux,  52  ;  advises  his 
son  to  give  up  the  fine  arts  as  unprofit 
able,  74. 

Tyler,  Major,  marked  for  arrest,  65. 

Valley  Forge,  268. 
Violent  surgery,  313. 
Virginia  officer,  a,  beforehand  with  New 
England  inquisitors,  44. 


Wadsworth,  Col.,  has  his  portrait  painted 
by  Trumbull,  75,  who  shows  it  with 
pride  that  goeth  before  destruction  to 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  75, 

Warren,  Win  slow,  a  gay  young  Ameri 
can,  66. 

Washington,  Gen.  George,  sketched  by 
Abigail  Adams,  34;  has  his  head 
moulded  in  wax  by  Mrs.  Wright,  82  ; 
a  day  with,  193 ;  sketched  by  Dr. 
Thacher,  198 ;  in  Philadelphia,  244 ; 
his  dinner-parties,  246  ;  his  coach,  247  ; 
his  appearance,  248. 

Watches,  238. 

Watson,  Elkanah,  33  ;  takes  charge  of 
powder  for  Cambridge,  33  ;  dealings 
with  Mrs.  Wright,  80 ;  orders  Frank 
lin's  head  in  wax,  83  ;  uses  the  head  in 
practical  jokes,  84 ;  has  an  interview 
with  Franklin,  86;  and  a  note  from 
him  the  next  morning,  87  ;  has  his  por 
trait  painted  by  Copley,  88  ;  is  present 
in  the  House  of  Lords  when  the  king 
recognizes  the  United  States,  89;  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  91. 

Watson,  John  F.,  author  of  "Annals  of 
Philadelphia,"  230. 

Webster,  Noah,  and  his  text-books,  m, 

US- 
West,  Benjamin,  63  ;  his  copy  of  a  Cor- 
reggio,  64;  concerned  about  Trum 
bull' s  arrest,  70;  has  an  interview  in 
his  behalf  with  the  king,  71  ;  receives 
Trumbull  again  into  his  house,  75  ;  en 
courages  him  to  paint  historical  pictures, 

77- 

West,  Samuel,  an  eccentric  minister, 
commonly  called  Pater  West,  50. 

Whale-fishery,  the  beginning  of  the, 
92. 

Whale-fishing,  the  mode  of,  94. 

Whittling,  an  invention  to  prevent  idle 
ness,  99. 

Wigfall,  anecdote  of  Joseph,  305. 

Wigglesworth,  Rev.  Michael  and  "The 
Day  of  Doom,"  113. 

Willartl,  Joseph,  President  of  Harvard 
College,  45,  49. 


320 


INDEX. 


Willard,  Sidney,  "  Memories  of  Youth 
and  Manhood,"  49. 

Winter  Hill,  the  quarters  of  the  German 
prisoners,  36. 

Withers,  William,  one  of  Marion's  men 
and  an  excellent  shot  at  noses,  313. 

Witherspoon,  Dr.,  200 ;  receives  the  Mar 
quis  de  Chastellux  with  such  French 
as  he  has,  200. 


Wright,  Mrs.,  an  eccentric  moulder  of 
wax  figures,  So ;  makes  a  head  of 
Washington,  82  ;  and  of  Franklin,  83. 

Wright,  Sir  Sampson,  a  police  magis 
trate  who  tries  Trumbull,  67. 

Yankee  humor,  a  bit  of,  21. 
Yankees    characterized,    43 ;    the    term 
learnedly  explained,  43 . 


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